^%f^ 




•fopolg in JJorfS Valr* 



Views in North Wales 



ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY T. L ROWBOTHAM 



Jrtlj;rolof[ic;i( ( historical, ^mtud, aitb Jlcstriptibc Botes 

COMPILED DY 

THE REV. W. J. LOFTIE, B.A., F.S.A. 





SCRIBNER, WELFORD, & ARMSTRONG, BROADWAY 

LONDON: MARCUS WARD & CO. 
1875 



J 






CONTENTS, 



Snowdon, ........ 9 

Cader Idris, ....... 31 

Conway Castle, . . . . . . .43 

Moel Siabod, ....... 66 

Caernarvon Castle, . . . . . . .79 

1!i;dim;elert, ....... 103 



CHROMOGRAPHS. 

Snowdon, ...... Frontispiece. 

Cader Idris, from the Barmouth Road, ... 30 

Conway Castle, . . . . . . .42 

Moel Siabod, from Bettws-y-Coed, .... 67 

Caernarvon Castle, . . . . . . .78 

Beddgelert, . . . . . . .102 



INITIAL VIGNETTES. 

Snowdon, ........ 9 

Bridge near Corwen, . . . . . . 31 

Conway Castle, . . . . • . .43 

Cromlech — Plas Newydd, Anglesea, .... 66 

Harlech Castle, . . . . . . .79 

Pillar of Eliseg, near Valle Crucis, .... 103 




S NO IV DO N. 




JT^HE highest mountain in England and 
Wales, Snowdon yet falls far short 
of Ben Nevis and Ben Muich Dhui across 
the Scottish border. Indeed, there are as 
many as sixteen or seventeen Caledonian 
peaks which exceed it, some of them by as 
much as eight hundred feet. On the other 
I i.iikL there is no mountain in Ireland which 
approaches Snowdon by more than a 
hundred feet — Carrantuohill, in Kerry, the highest in the sister 
island, being only three thousand four hundred and fourteen, while 
Snowdon is three thousand five hundred and seventy-one feet 
above the waters of the intervening channel. This advantage is> 
moreover, set off by the position of the minor hills which surround 
Snowdon. Several of them, although of great altitude, arc at a 
sufficient distance not to interfere with him ; and while it is often 
difficult to say, in Highland or in Irish scenery, which is really the 
tallest in a chain of hills, there can never be a moment's doubt in 
the presence of Snowdon as to his supremacy among his compeers. 
Before proceeding to describe the ascents which may be made, 



10 Suoiudou. 



and to quote from the chief authors who have mentioned Snowdon, 
it may be well to say something as to the geographical and 
geological features of the district. Fortunately, very competent 
guides are at hand It is, in fact, not very easy to select from a 
number of writers on the subject. The Lower Silurian rocks, of 
which the range mainly consists, have received much attention 
from geologists ; and if the student goes carefully over the ground, 
he will also find plain evidence of volcanic action, and "will perceive 
various patches of igneous eruptive rocks standing out from amidst 
the great Lower Silurian formation. Beginning from the north, he 
will be able to trace the great rugged Snowdonian range from 
Penmaenmawr to Moel Hebog, above Tremadoc. Singular as it 
appears, this range ' is composed of rocks which are the equivalents 
of the strata occupying the comparatively low-lying hills of the 
Bala district east of Arenig.' In other words, the lavas and 
volcanic ashes of this great chain were erupted in the Caradoc or 
Bala epoch. To the west of the flanks of this range we have, then, 
emerging from under these altered Caradoc strata, and much 
traversed by porphyries, Llandeilo beds, overlying the Lingula 
flags, beneath which again lie the great mass of Cambrian grits and 
slates which supply the quarries of Penrhyn and Llanberis. To 
the south of Moel Hebog we have the same series repeated, with the 
difference that the Lingula flags at Tremadoc abut upon the great 
Merionethshire mass of Cambrian rock. Immediately on the east 
of Snowdon is a narrow anticlinal axis of slate and sandstone, full 
of Caradoc or Bala fossils, which separates what may be called the 
great porphyritic basin of the Snowdon range from the minor basin 
of Dolwyddelan, of precisely the same age." The " Cambrian " 



Snowdon. 1 1 



formation is also very well defined. It occurs in two separate 
districts — one in Merionethshire, the other in Caernarvonshire. The 
latter " commences between Bangor and Carnedd Llewelyn, and 
terminates at the sea near Clynnog. ' Between the Menai Straits 
and the east flank of the Snowdon range we find huge buttresses 
of very ancient grit, schist, slate, and sandstone, having the same 
direction from south-south-west to north-north-east, in which, 
though their sedimentary character is obvious, and though they 
have not been so much altered as in Anglesea, but one obscure 
fossil has been detected throughout a thickness of many thousand 
feet.' — Murchison. These rocks are the equivalents of the 
Longmynd or Bottom rocks of Shropshire, and their commercial 
importance will be duly estimated as being the locale of the 
Llanberis and Penrhyn quarries." Some account of the slate 
quarries will be found in our notice of Moel Siabod. The author 
of Siluria says : — " ' The strata which constitute the lower part of 
Snowdon itself, and repose upon the older slates and Lingula flags, 
consist of dark bluish -grey slaty schists, representing the inferior 
part of the Llaudeilo formation. They are traversed by masses of 
eruptive rock, consisting of porphyry and greenstone, or compact 
felspar or felstone. In the next overlying accumulations are many 
Caradoc fossils, although the original beds alternate rapidly with 
volcanic dejections of ashes and felspathic materials.' Professor 
Ramsay considers that most of the intruding bosses of greenstone, 
porphyry, and syenite, which traverse the rocks west of the 
Snowdon chain and the great Merionethshire district of Cambrian 
rocks, &c, date about the close of the Lingula flag period — i.e., 
in the epoch of the Llandeilo rocks. A period of comparative 



12 Snotihion. 



repose succeeded, followed by those eruptions which produced the 
porphyries of Snowdon. ' All these Snowdonian porphyries,' he 
says. ' are true lava-beds, accompauied by volcanic ashes of the 
same period.' " 

Professor Eamsay has published in a separate form his chapters 
on Swiss and Welsh Glaciers, originally contributed to a volume 
by the members of the Alpine Club. In his preface he says : — 
" It is now twenty years since Agassiz and Buckland announced 
that the valleys of the Highlands and of Wales had once been 
filled with glaciers. Few but geologists heard the announcement, 
and, with rare exceptions, those who cared at all about it, met the 
glacial theory of the drift in general, and that of extinct glaciers in 
particular, with incredulity, and sometimes with derision. Eash 
writers still held that the far-borne boulder drift, so widely spread 
over the cold and temperate regions of Europe and America, had 
been scattered abroad by mighty sea waves, set in motion by the 
sudden upheaval of hypothetical northern continents ; and the 
polish and striation of the rocks in the mountain valleys — the 
veritable signs of vanished glaciers — were attributed by flippant 
writers and talkers to cart-wheels, hobnailed boots, and the nether 
integuments of Welshmen sliding down the hills ; as if the country 
had been inhabited by a monstrous race of primitive Celts — all 
clad in the famous armour of stone worn by Loupgarou and his 
giants, when they fought with the heroic Pantagruel — their sole 
occupation for illimitable ages having consisted in the performance 
of Titanic glissades upon the rocks. Now, however, the tide has 
changed, and for years the glacial theory (applied to a late Tertiary 
epoch in Britain and elsewhere) has not only steadily gained ground 



Snowdon. 



among geologists, but has even found its way into the writings of 
more popular authors." 

Speaking more immediately of Snowdon, he proceeds : — ■ 
" This mountain, the highest and noblest in the district, is 
bounded on three sides by valleys, which in all respects are 
unsurpassed in geological interest and wild beauty by any in 
North Wales. On the north-east lie the bare crags of the narrow 
Pass of Llanberis, on the east the softer beauties of Nant Gwynant, 
and on the west the long drift-covered slopes of the broad 
depression that runs from Llyn Cwellyn'* to Beddgelert. In the 
midst of these, the mountain rises in a tall peak 3571 feet above 
the sea, its base being formed mostly of old lava-beds of felspathic 
porphyry, and the topmost thousand feet chiefly of stratified 
felspathic tuffs and ashes. In these rocks six vast hollows have 
been scooped by time, forming the wild upland valleys of 
Cwm-glas-bach, t Cwm-glas, Llyn Llydaw, \ Cwm-y-llan, § 
Cwm-y-clogwyn,|| and Llyn du'r Arddu,1f in some of which the 



* Cwellyn, properly Cawellyn — a basket, hamper, or creel. So called from the 
fishing-creels once used in the lake. t Little Grey Valley. 

% Llydaw is the Welsh name of Armorica, but there seems to be no sense in 
this interpretation. Lludw means ashes or cinders, and it is remarkable that on 
parts of the slopes round the lake, there are consolidated Lower Silurian volcanic 
ashes, still so scoriaceous-looking, that even a person who is no geologist might 
readily recognise them as volcanic. 

§ The Enclosed Valley. || The Craggy Valley. 

IT Gardd, or Ardd, when preceded by the article yr (the), means a garden, and 
this name has often been translated the " lake of the black garden." Such a name, 
however, seems to have no sense when taken in connexion with the locality. 
Arddu also means " the extreme of blackness ;" and lying, as the pool does, in a deep 
hollow at the base of a tall black cliff, the name literally signifies " the blackest 
black lake," or, as it might be freely translated into Scotch, " Pitmirk Loch." 



u Snow d cm. 



signs of glacier ice are even more striking than in the Pass of 
Llanberis itself." 

Professor Eamsay goes over each of these valleys separately, 
and notes their peculiarities. Many of his descriptions are very 
graphic, and of interest apart from their geological meaning. 
Everywhere he sees signs of glacial action, and unconsciously, while 
telling of the marks he can detect, he draws most accurate and real 
pictures of the scenery. His little book, which contains an admir- 
able map, is indispensable to every geologist who visits Snowdon ; 
so we will only select one more passage as an example of the 
learned professor's power of word-painting. He is speaking of the 
valley on the eastern slope of Snowdon : — 

" Approaching Llyn Llydaw, the full grandeur of this wonderful 
valley bursts on the beholder. A lake rather more than a mile in 
length, and of a green colour, like some of the lakes of Switzerland, 
obliquely crosses the valley. Around it rise the cliffs of Lliwedd, 
Crib Goch, and Pen Wyddfa, seamed with veins of white quartz that 
gleam like streaks of snow on the tall black rocks circling the vast 
amphitheatre, the scarred sides and ragged outlines of which, 
sharply defined against the sky, may well seem, till attempted, 
hopelessly inaccessible to the unpractised climber. In every season 
and phase of weather there is a charm in this valley to the lover 
of the mountains — in quiet sunshine, when the rocks, and perhaps 
a lazy ferry-boat, are reflected in the still water; or while the 
wanderer scales the crags amid the seething mists ; or when the 
pitiless rain, or hail, or snow, comes driving down the valley ; but 
best of all, in a threatening evening, when the gathered clouds, 
like the roof of a vast cavern, hang heavily from side to side on the 



Suowdoii. 



edges of hills, and a streak of light, caught from the setting sun, 
shows redly behind the dim peak of Snowdon, grimly reflected in 
the sombre waters of the lake. 

" The signs of a glacier are so evident in Cwm Llydaw that it 
is needless to describe all the details. At the outflow of the lake 
there are moraine-like mounds, formed of earthy matter, stones, 
and angular and subangular blocks, which even now partly dam up 
the lake, and when I first knew it, raised it to a still higher level, 
ere the channel of the brook was sacrilegiously deepened to lower 
the water, for the sake of saving a few pounds in the construction 
of an ugly causeway. Close to the outflow, the once beautiful little 
islets of rock, feathered with heath and grasses, are now united to 
the mainland, and a broad ugly black rim round the lake marks alike 
the extent of the drainage and the barbarism of the perpetrators 
of this unhappy outrage on the most beautiful scene in Wales." 

So much, then, for the geological features of Snowdonia. We 
will now endeavour to enumerate the principal points of ascent, 
and to describe those which are best worth attempting. In old 
times such an undertaking as a climb to the top of the mountain 
was considered in the highest degree perilous. But modern 
travellers make the ascent almost daily, only fearing a fog which 
may obscure their view, and, if they are without a guide, endanger 
their descent. Snowdon is particularly liable to sudden fogs ; and 
the tourist not already well acquainted with the tracks does a fool- 
hardy thing in going up alone. Many people, too, like to meet 
the sun on the summit, and must for that purpose make their 
journey by night. In no case should this be done without the 
assistance and direction of a well-skilled companion. 



16 Snowdon. 



There are four distinct paths of ascent. They are those from 
Llanberis, which is the easiest ; from Capel Curig, which is the 
longest and most tedious ; from Beddgelert, which, from its 
including the famous pass of the Clawdd Goch, is perhaps the most 
picturesque ; and the ascent from Llyn Cwellyn, which is not often 
made, but which includes a visit to the Maen Bras, of which Mr. 
Ramsay has much to say. It was from a cliff on this last route 
that Mr. Starr, a Northamptonshire clergyman, was killed in a fog, 
in November, 1846. He was well accustomed to ascend by 
himself, and on this occasion the guide attempted in vain to 
dissuade him. His body was not found for four months, during 
the winter, though constant search was made. When at last it was 
discovered, it had been much mangled, probably by wild cats or 
other vermin, and the head was lying at some distance from the 
body. 

With regard to the name of Snowdon, we learn from Mr. 
Cliffe that it is a generic term. It is not properly applied to a 
particular mountain, but to a continuous tract of mountains. The 
word is Saxon, and evidently intends a hill where snow lies. The 
native appellation is Eryri, or Craig Eryri. Mr. Llwyd asserts 
that this term signifies eagles' rocks. Mr. Pennant assures us that 
the eagle is seldom seen here, and that the name, and the more 
modern one, Snowdon, are in fact synonymous, the latter being 
borrowed of the former. Creigiau'r Eira, he says, means Snowy 
Mountains, so named from the frequency of snow upon them. 
Pennant gives them up to snow from November to May, but 
sometimes they are powdered a little earlier or later. " In July, 
just after sunrise, the thermometer has been observed at 34 de°\, 



Snow don. 17 



and iu August at 48 deg. early in the afternoon." The point of 
permanent snow is about 4350 feet ; a considerably higher elevation 
than Snowdon. In 1850, snow fell here in June ; sometimes it 
falls early in October. One of Sir W. W. Wynn's mottoes is Eryr 
Eryrod Eryri — " Eagle of the Eagles of Snowdon." 

One of the titles of the Prince of Wales was " Lord of 
Snowdon," and this mountain was regarded by the Welsh with 
superstitious reverence, it being fabled that those who slept on it 
would " wake inspired." 

The ascent from Llanberis may first be described. A recent 
writer, quoted by Mr. Cliff e, thus narrates his experience : — 

" The morning was rather misty, but we were led to believe that 
before we reached the summit it would clear up. Our road was 
somewhat rough after we reached the first ascent : the path was 
strewed over with the debris of the rocks, but the ponies 
accustomed to this sort of travelling were quite as safe-footed as 
our own horses are on a good turnpike road. The distance which 
we had now to ascend was computed to be five miles, and a height 
of 3571 feet ; but of this fact we never obtained a glimpse until we 
had nearly completed our journey. Keeping on the side of the 
vale of Cwm Brwynog, we threaded our path with comparative ease, 
now and then scrambling over peaks of rocks which interspersed 
our road, until we came upon Eushy Hollow. We now put our 
animals upon a smart trot, passing over many a bog which in 
winter would have swallowed us up. Here we met with a farmer, 
who rented thousands of acres within our view, and a man of 
substance, his wealth being estimated at least at £1500 capital, 
having a flock of 200 sheep — a great number in that locality. His 



18 Snowdon. 



dress certainly was a contrast to that of the English yeomen. 
Imagine a thin spare figure, with an old ' all round my hat,' with 
the brim off — which had once been white — with an old pair of 
corduroy breeches, without the knee-ties or buttons — a pair of 
brown woollen stockings, which once were black — and a light- 
coloured spare coat, with the nap worn by age, and ornamented 
here and there by a button or two of different sizes. Add to these, 
high-low shoes, which had never been acquainted with Day and 
Martin, held to the foot by a piece of string — and you will find the 
portrait of one of the yeomen of Snowdon. His residence was in 
the valley, at one of the few white cottages that could be seen in 
the distance. There was no pretension to a homestead, and little 
or no enclosure to the few patches of land adjoining, which were 
under culture for oats. On the opposite side, however, there were 
several head of cattle, which formed a portion of his wealth. This 
day to Mr. William Owen was one of peculiar interest, for it was 
that appointed by him for selecting his sheep ; and all his family, 
young men and young women, boys and girls — and there were not 
a few who claimed kindred to him — were occupied in the 
difficult and laborious task of driving the sheep together to the 
sides of the mountain. This was an amusing scene, for the old 
man, with his hands in his pockets, acted as general, now calling 
out with stentorian tongue to a daughter, a true picture of an 
Amazon, with ' Now, Bet ; now, Sian !' (Jane) ; then to a son, 
causing the welkin to resound again with his commands. At 
length, after great toil, the wild animals were got together in some- 
thing like a huddle. 

" The temperature in the valley we had left was scorching hot ; 



Snow don. 



L9 



but here it was cold, and we had a smart fall of hail, which lasted 
for some minutes. Mr. Owen told us that last spriug, about 
March, the winter was so severe that he lost several head of stock, 
forty lambs, and fifty sheep, which were frozen to death. We now 
came in sight of the black precipice, or nearly perpendicular rock, 
called Clogwyn du yr Arddudwy, at the foot of which there is a 
lake, the waters of which are blue, and which we passed a quarter 
of a mile on our left." The distance from Dolbadarn to the top of 
Snowdon is about four miles, or a little more. After passing the 
Llyn d'er Arddu, just mentioned, the scene of another fatal accident 
comes in view. A gentleman named Frodsham fell over the 
rocks, having strayed from his party along a path to the right. 
This sad event took place in August, 1859. Magnificent views are 
now to be had on all sides, and shortly before reaching the summit 
this path is joined by that from Capel Curig. 

This is the longest and most difficult route, the distance being 
nine miles, of which half at least is along a turnpike road. The 
climbing begins when Gorphwysfa is reached. Soon afterwards 
the fine scenery surrounding Llyn Llydaw, described above, 
comes into view. The whole track from the lake to another and 
smaller lake or tarn at a higher level, Llyn Glas, is most strikingly 
beautiful. Immediately above the last-named tarn towers the 
central peak of Snowdon — Moel-y-Wyddfa, or the " Conspicuous." 

A notice of the route from Beddgelert will be found in our 
account of that place. 

The writer of Murray's Guide thus speaks of the summit : — 

" The visitor who has thus arrived at the peak of Snowdon by 
any of these routes will be much mistaken if he comes prepared for 



Snowdon. 



mountain solitude, for Moel-y-Wyddfa in the season is one of the 
most crowded spots in Wales. The guides have erected two huts 
on the highest point, where comestibles, such as eggs and bacon, 
may be obtained at tolerably reasonable prices, considering the 
labour of getting them up. In foggy or wet weather it is no slight 
relief to find a dry room and blazing fire. A charge of five shillings 
is made for bed and breakfast, to those who wish to see the sun rise, j 
There is no doubt that the presence of a host of excursionists is not 
always grateful to the lover of nature, but he must take it as it is, I 
with all the pleasures and all the annoyances. Fortunate are they i 
who have ascended on a cloudless day, for the prospect is one of I 
almost boundless magnificence." 

He thus sums up the view : — • j 

" The distant views embrace the mountains of Cumberland, 1 
Westmoreland, and Lancashire, Penyghent and Ingleborough in j 
Yorkshire, the Isle of Man, the hills of Wicklow, with a good part 
of the Irish coast ; while nearer home we have the whole of \ 
Anglesea and Caernarvonshire at the feet, and we might almost say 
the whole of North Wales. To the north and north-east rise Moel 
Eilio, Mynydd Mawr, the Glyders, Moel Siabod, Trifaen, Carnedds 
Davydd and Llewelyn, Penmaenmawr, and the Menai Straits, '' 
with the Clwydian hills in the distance. To the west are Moel 
Hebog, the pools of Nantllef, Drvvs-y-coed, Gyrngoch, and Yr Eifl, 
with the sparkling sea beyond ; while to the south the eye wanders 
over a perfect wilderness of mountains — Moelwyn, Cynicht, Moel 
Lledr, and the Manods above Ffestiniog ; the Arenigs, the Berwyns, 
Aran Benllyn and Aran Mowddy near Bala, Llawlech and the 
Rhinogs over Harlech, Cader Idris near Dolgelley, the rounded hills 



Snow don. 



of Montgomeryshire, with Plinlymmon and the Cardiganshire hills 
in the far distance. Directly at the feet lie Llanberis, with its 
lakes, Llyn Cwellyn and Llyn-y-gader, and the beautiful vale of 
Nant Gwynant, while a stone might be thrown into any of the 
deep valleys underneath. From twenty-five to thirty lakes are 
visible altogether from the summit. 

" Amidst the vast horizon's stretch, 
In restless gaze the eye of wonder darts 
O'er the expanse ; mountains on mountains piled, 
And winding hays and promontories huge, 
Lakes and meandering rivers, from their source, 
Traced to the distant ocean." 

Pennant gives the following account of his visit to the summit 
in the latter part of the last century :— 

" The mountain from hence seems propped by four vast but- 
tresses, between which are four deep cwms, or hollows : each, 
excepting one, has one or more lakes lodged in its distant bottom. 
The nearest was Ffynnon Las, or the Green Well, lying immediately 
below us : one of the company had the curiosity to descend a very 
bad way to a jutting rock, that impended over the monstrous 
precipice ; and he seemed like Mercury ready to take his flight 
from the summit of Atlas. The waters of Ffynnon Las, from this 
height, appeared black and unfathomable, and the edges quite 
green. From thence is a succession of bottoms, surrounded by 
lofty and rugged hills, the greatest part of whose sides are perfectly 

,• i mural, and form the most magnificent amphitheatre in nature. 
The Wyddfa is on one side ; Crib-y-distill, with its serrated tops, 

. m another ; Crib Goch, a ridge of fiery redness, appears beneath 



Snow don. 



the preceding ; and opposite to it is the boundary called Lliwedd. 
Another very singular support to this mountain is Y Clawdd 
Goch, rising into a sharp ridge, so narrow, as not to afford breadth 
even for a path. 

" The view from this exalted situation is unbounded. In a 
f< >rmer tour, I saw from it the county of Chester, the high hills of 
Yorkshire, part of the north of England, Scotland, and Ireland ; a 
plain view of the Isle of Man ; and that of Anglesea lay extended 
like a map beneath me, with every rill visible. I took much pains 
to see this prospect to advantage — sat up at a farm on the west 
till about twelve, and walked up the whole way. The night was 
remarkably fine and starry : towards morn, the stars faded away, i 
and left a short interval of darkness, which was soon dispersed by /■ 
the dawn of day. The body of the sun appeared more distinct, 
with the rotundity of the moon, before it rose high enough to 
render its beams too brilliant for our sight. The sea which 
bounded the western part was gilt by its rays, first in slender 
streaks, at length glowing with redness. The prospect was 
disclosed like the gradual drawing up of a curtain in a theatre. 
We saw more and more, till the heat became so powerful as to 
attract the mists from the various lakes, which, in a slight degree, jl 
obscured the prospect. The shadow of the mountain was flungj 
many miles, and shewed its bicapitated form ; the Wyddfa making} 
one, the Crib-y-distill the other head. I counted this time 1 
between twenty and thirty lakes, either in this county, oijj 
Meirioneddshire. The day proved so excessively hot, that my 
journey cost me the skin of the lower part of my face, before ij 
reached the resting-place, after the fatigue of the morning. 



Snow don. 23 



" On this day, the sky was obscured very soon after I got up. 
A vast mist enveloped the whole circuit of the mountain. The 
prospect down was horrible. It gave an idea of numbers of 
abysses, concealed by a thick smoke, furiously circulating around 
us. Very often a gust of wind formed an opening in the clouds, 
which gave a fine and distinct vista of lake and valley. Sometimes 
they opened only in one place ; at others, in many at once, 
exhibiting a most strange and perplexing sight of water, fields, 
rocks, or chasms, in fifty different places. They then closed at 
once, and left us involved in darkness ; in a small time they would 
separate again, and fly in wild eddies round the middle of the 
mountains, and expose, in parts, both tops and bases clear to 
our view. We descended from this various scene with great 
reluctance." 

Bingley, another old writer, in his account of North Wales, is 
moved to poetry by the marvels of the view. He says : — 

" The view from the summit I found beyond my expectation 

' extensive. From this point the eye is able to trace, on a clear day, 
part of the coast, with the hills of Scotland ; the high mountains 
of Westmoreland and Cumberland ; and, on this side, some of the 
hills of Lancashire. When the atmosphere is very transparent, 
even part of the county of Wicklow, and the whole of the Isle of 
Man, become visible. The immediately surrounding mountains of 
{Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire all seem directly under the 
leye, and the highest of the whole appear from this station much 

r I 'lower than Snovvdon. Many of the vales were exposed to the view, 
1 which, by their verdure, relieved the eye from the dreary scene of 

, j warren rocks. The numerous pools visible from hence, betwixt 



: 



24 Snowdon. 



thirty and forty, lend also a varied character to the prospect. The 
mountain itself, from the summit, seems as it were propped by five 
immense rocks as buttresses. These are Crib-y-distill and Crib 
Goch, between Llanberis and Capel Curig ; Lliewedd, towards Nan 
Hwynan ; Clawdd Goch, towards Beddgelert ; and Lechog, the 
mountain which forms the south side of the vale of Llanberis, 
towards Dolbadarn. 

" The summit of Snowdon is so frequently enveloped in clouds 
and mist, that, except when the weather is perfectly fine and 
settled, the traveller through this country will find it somewhat 
difficult to have a day sufficiently clear to permit him to ascend the 
mountain. When the wind blows from the west, it is almost 
always completely covered ; and at other times, even when the 
state of the weather seems favourable, it will often become suddenly 
enveloped, and will remain in that state for hours. Most persons, 
however, agree that the prospects are the more interesting, as they 
are more varied, when the clouds just cover the summit. The 
following description of the scenery from Snowdon when the 
mountain is in this state is perfectly accurate : — ■ 

" 'Now high and swift flits the thin rack along 
Skirted with rainbow dyes, now deep below 
(While the fierce sun strikes the illumined top 
Slow sails the gloomy storm, and all beneath 
By vaporous exhalation hid, lies lost 
In darkness ; save at once where drifted mists 
Cut by strong gusts of eddying winds, expose 
The transitory scene. 

Now swift on either side the gathered clouds, 
As by a sudden touch of magic, wide 



Snow don. 25 



Eecede, and the fair face of heaven and earth 

Appears. Amid the vast horizon's stretch, 

In restless gaze the eye of wonder darts 

O'er the expanse ; mountains on mountains piled, 

And winding bays, and promontories huge, 

Lakes and meandering rivers, from their source 

Traced to the distant ocean.' " 

But Snowdon has not wanted for real poets. To the present 
day the natives will tell us that " whoever sleeps a night upon the 
top of Snowdon, will wake up as much inspired as those who 
became poets by taking a nap on the hill of Apollo. 

" ' Here, too, the hards, when merit claimed the meed, 
The strain that gave to other days the deed, 
Invoked the Hill, the verse-inspiring spring, 
And quitted earth on rapture's rising wing ; 
E'en now, unknown to cultivating care, 
Some genial plant may feel this chilling air ; 
May bud, unseen, the village oak beneath, 
Or bloom, unheeded, on the barren heath : 
And though its tints depression's mists may shroud, 
Some beam may yet pervade th' incumbent cloud, 
Some friendly hand its glowing dyes may spread, 
And shew its bloom on Flora's gayest bed.' " 

Lloyd. 

And Evans offers the following piece of fine writing in prose as 
a description of a descent into the vale of Llanberis, and 
elucidatory of the mountain's poet-making powers : — " Occasional 
gusts of wind which now roared around us swept away the pitchy 
cloud that involved particular spots of the mountain, and dis- 
covered immediately below us huge rocks, abrupt precipices, and 



26 Snowdon. 



profound hollows, exciting emotions of astonishment and awe in 
the mind, which the. eye, darting down an immense descent of 
vacuity and horror, conveyed to it under the dreadful image of 
inevitable destruction." 

A modern writer gives us a description of sunrise from 
Snowdon with a very different kind of imagery. He tells exactly 
what he felt and saw, and his account is therefore better, even for 
poetical purposes, than the long words and piled-up imagery which 
Evans admired : — " On reaching the summit, all our difficulties 
were forgotten, and our imaginary complaints overborne with 
exclamations of wonder, surprise, and admiration. The light, thin, 
misty cloud, which had for some time enveloped us, as if by 
enchantment, suddenly dispersed ; the whole ocean appeared 
illuminated by a fiery substance, and all the subject hills below us — 
for they resembled molehills — were gradually tinged by the rich 
glow of the sun ; whose orb becoming at length distinctly visible, 
displayed the whole island of Anglesea so distinctly, that we 
descried, as in a map, its fiat and uncultivated plains, bounded by 
the rich and inexhaustible Parys mountains, in the vicinity of 
Holyhead. The point on which we were standing did not exceed 
a square of five yards, and we sickened almost at the sight of the 
steep precipices which environed us. Round it is a small parapet, 
formed by the customary tribute of all strangers who visit this 
summit, and to which we likewise contributed, by placing a laro-e 
stone on its top. This parapet, indeed, sheltered us from the chilly 
cold, and protected us from the piercing wind, to which this height 
must naturally be exposed. 

" We remained in this situation for a considerable time, and 



Suowdon. 27 



endeavoured, without success, to enumerate the several lakes, 
forests, woods, and counties, which were exposed to us in one view ; 
but lost and confounded with the innumerable objects worthy of 
admiration, and regardless of the chilling cold, we took a distinct 
survey of the Isle of Man, together with a faint prospect of the 
Highlands in Ireland, which appeared just visibly skirting the 
distant horizon. But another object soon engrossed all our 
attention : 

' The wide, the unbounded prospect lay before us ; 
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it ;' 

for we unexpectedly observed long billows of vapour tossing about, 
half-way down the mountain, totally excluding the country below, 
and occasionally dispersing, and partially revealing its features ; 
while above, the azure expanse of the heavens remained unobscured 
by the thinnest mist. This, however, was of no long continuance : 
a thick cloud presently wet us through ; and the point on which 
we were standing could alone be distinguished. As there appeared 
little or no chance of the clouds dispersing, we soon commenced 
our descent. Eespecting this Alpine excursion, suffice it to say 
that, though our expectations were raised exceedingly high, it 
infinitely surpassed all conception, and baffled all description ; for 
no colour of language can paint the grandeur of the rising sun, 
observed from this eminence, or describe the lakes, woods, and 
forests which are extended before you ; for description, though it 
enumerates" their names, yet it cannot draw the elegance of outline, 
cannot give the effect of precipices, or delineate the minute features, 
which reward the actual observer at every new choice of his 



28 Snowdon. 



position ; and, by changing their colour and form in his gradual 
ascent, till at last every object dwindles into atoms ; in short, this 
interesting excursion, which comprehends every thing that is awful, 
grand, and sublime, producing the most pleasing sensations, has 
left traces in the memory which the imagination will ever hold 
dear." 




CADER IDRIS. 




CADER IDRIS owes its rank and the 
estimation in which it is held by all lovers 
of scenery not so much to its height, which 
falls short of that of Snowdon, as to 
its situation at the head of a short range, 
and to its peculiarly precipitous slope. 
The highest point is two thousand nine 
hundred and fourteen feet above the sea ; 
being exceeded by half-a-dozen mountains 
of the rival range, and being about six hundred feet lower than 
Snowdon. The number of beautiful excursions which may be made 
in its neighbourhood, too, render it a point of universal attraction. 
Dolgelly, Cymmer Abbey, Nannau, the Falls of the Cain, are all 
to the north, and within a few miles; while to the south are 
Machynlleth, with its Parliament House, and all the valleys which, 
one by one, unite in the Dovey, with Plinlimmon in the distance — 
" Proud Plinlimmon," whose cloud-capped head, as Gray tells us, 
bowed at the magic song of Modred. 

It is from Dolgelly that visitors generally approach Cader Idris. 
The name is derived from Idris, a famous giant, whose chair of 



32 Coder Idris. 



state was on the summit — at least so the popular legend runs ; but 
other, and perhaps better, explanations have been offered. The 
name of Dolgelly — or Dolgellen, as Evans gave it — is less puzzling. 
Dol or Dal is a word we have as " dale," and the remaining syllables 
indicate the presence in the valley of a grove of hazel trees. It 
has little of interest in its modern streets. The church, with its 
pewless floor and one old monument, and the house called the 
Parliament House, from a tradition that in it Owen Glendower held 
his parliament in 1404, are all the remnants of anticpiity that the 
place contains. The house, however, looks much too modern to 
have been standing at the beginning of the fifteenth century, but it 
may possibly be on the site of the veritable " St. Stephen's" of North 
Wales. It was not here, but at Machynlleth, that Owen was 
crowned in 1402 ; and the porch of the Parliament House there 
has greater appearance of authenticity. But the greatest feature of 
interest — and, indeed, in a sense, of antiquity — about Dolgelly con- 
sists of its walls. It is situated so completely in the heart of the 
hills, that Cader Idris and its companions may be considered its 
fortifications. The saying is as old as the time of Fuller, and ad- 
mirably sums up the peculiarity of the place. 

Fuller is not content with this notice, but adds four other things 
worthy of remark respecting Dolgelly. His words are as follows: — 

" 1. The walls thereof are three miles high. 

2. Men go into it over the water ; but 

3. Go out of it under the water. 

4. The steeple thereof doth grow therein. 

5. There are more alehouses than '. 



These enigmas he solves in the following manner : — The first alludes 



Cader Idris. 33 



to the fact that mountains surround the place. The second, that 
on one entrance to the town, there was a bridge over which all 
travellers must pass. The third, that on the other they had to go 
under a wooden trough, carried across the road for the conveyance 
of water from a distance to an overshot mill on the opposite side. 
For the explanation of the fourth, that the bells (if plural) hung in 
a yew tree. And fifthly, that " the tenements were divided into 
two or more tippling-houses, and that even chimneyless barns were 
often used for that purpose." It must be presumed that he penned 
this description from the state of the town during the time of fair, 
when almost every house was open for the sale of Cwrw dda, or 
Welsh ale. Eespecting the other allusions, none will at present 
apply, except the first two. 

Two miles from Dolgelly, the traveller, bent on ascending the 
mountain, reaches the beautiful lake of Llyn Gwernan. A little 
further on is Llyn-y-Gafr, and a short but steep ascent brings us to 
Llyn-y-Gader — a deep and lovely tarn, high up the side of the hill, 
in a magnificent amphitheatre of cliffs. Cader Idris, indeed, is well 
supplied with water in which to cast reflections. At the other side 
is Tal-y-Llyn, the most famous of all — perhaps the best known 
and oftenest praised lake in AVales. The author of Murray's 
Guide dwells at some length upon its merits : — " This is considered 
by many the most charming lake in Wales, although in point of 
size it is exceeded by several. It is but a mile and a quarter 
long and a quarter of a mile broad, being, in fact, ' an expansion of 
the narrow vale ; the waters from the surrounding mountains being 
confined and dammed up at the lower extremity, where they run off 
in a rapid stream at Penybont, under a new bridge, erected a few 



Cader Idris. 



years ago.' — Notes of an Angler. The lake is celebrated for the 
rapid growth and the amazing fecundity of its trout, and is, therefore, 
as a matter of course, flogged from morning to night. The depth 
in general is not great, and the bottom is covered with moss and 
weeds, which is the principal cause of the fish thriving so well. 
The shallow weedy bottoms are the most likely spots to afford good 
sport, particularly at the lower end of the lake. May and June are 
the best months, and close to the village of Tal-y-Llyn is the little inn 
of Tyn-y-Cornel, a comfortable and unpretending hostelry in much 
repute among anglers. There is a second inn at Minffordd, at the 
junction of the Dolgelly and Machynlleth roads ; but it is not so 
convenient, on account of the distance from the lake. A little 
below Minffordd a small stream runs in from Llyn-y-Cae. The 
best way of visiting this glorious tarn is by following the course 
of the brook about a mile and a-kalf. The only lake to compare 
with it in North Wales is Llyn Idwal. It lies in a very deep 
hollow, surrounded on all sides but the outlet by the intensely 
rugged and steep precipices of Cader Idris — 

" On every side now roso 

Kocks, winch in unimaginable forms 

Lifted their black and barren pinnacles 

In the light of evening, and its precipice, 

Obscuring ravine, disclosed above 

'Mid toppling storms." — Shelley. 

The lake is of small size, but is all the more striking on that 
account : its depth is so great (360 feet) that some have supposed it 
to be the crater of an extinct volcano. Trout are abundant, of 
better quality than those in Tal-y-Llyn; but the lake is little fished, 
on account of the difficult walking to get to it." 



Cader Idris. 



Evans also praises Tal-y-Llyn, but hardly with such super- 
lative adjectives as some later writers. He says of it, that though 
confined, the vale is not destitute of beauty, consisting of 
rich meadows "through which meanders a fine rivulet, issuing 
from the lake, that soon has its confluence with the ocean. 
The valley is flanked by lofty mountains, whose declivous sides 
are adorned with verdant and sylvan clothing. The termina- 
tion is highly picturescpie. The lake here nearly fills the 
valley, so as to leave only a road on one side, and then contracts 
gradually into the form of a river, rushing under a bridge of one 
arch, through a narrow defile, on one side of which stands the 
church, and on the other cottages, intermingled with trees." This 
simple and quaint description shows how taste has altered in such 
matters. Wilson, the master who may be said to have first per- 
ceived the beauty of our hills and lakes, and to have ventured to 
paint them as he saw them, was born not far from the foot of Cader 
Idris, and lies buried close by at Mold. He is remembered in his 
own country not so much by his immortal landscapes, as by the 
signboard of an inn (the Three Loggerheads) which he painted. 
Two figures only appear, but the inquisitive traveller is advised to 
guess silently as to the identity of the third, as the consequences of 
asking information are not always agreeable. But Wilson could 
paint better things than signboards ; and if ever an artist was born 
in an appropriate neighbourhood, it was he. 

Continuing our ascent from Dolgelly, we cannot do better than 
follow the guidance of Aikin, who, in his Journal, thus describes 
the scene : — 

" We quitted the road and began our ascent at the first step of 



36 C cider Idris. 



this lofty mountain. When we had surmounted the exterior ridge, 
we descended a little to a deep, clear lake, which is kept constantly 
full by the numerous tributary torrents that fall down the surround- 
ing rocks ; hence we climbed a second and still higher chain up a 
steep but not difficult track, over numerous fragments of rock 
detached from the higher parts. We now came to a second and 
more elevated lake, clear as glass, and overlooked by steep cliffs in 
such a manner as to resemble the crater of a volcano, of which a 
most accurate representation is to be seen in Wilson's excellent view 
of Cader Idris. Some travellers have mentioned the finding lava 
and other volcanic productions here ; upon a strict examination, 
however, we were unable to discover anything of the kind, nor did 
the water of the lake appear to differ in any respect from the purest 
rock water, though it was tried repeatedly with the most delicate ] 
chemical tests. A clear, loud, and distant echo repeats every shock ( 
that is made near the lake. We now began our last and most diffi- J 
cult ascent up the summit of Cader Idris itself, which, when we had i 
surmounted, we came to a small plain with two rocky heads of 
nearly equal heights, one looking to the north, and the other to the 
south : we made choice of that which appeared to us the most ele- 
vated, and seated ourselves on its highest pinnacle to rest, after a.' 
laborious ascent of three hours. We were now high above all the | 
eminences within this vast expanse, and as the clouds gradually 
cleared away, caught some grand views of the surrounding country. 
The huge rocks which we before looked up to with astonishment, 
Merc far below at our feet, and many a small lake appeared in the 
valleys between them ; to the north, Snowdon, with its dej)enden- 
cies, shut up the scene ; on the west, we saw the whole curve of the 



Cader Idris. 37 



bay of Cardigan, bounded at a vast distance by the Caernarvon 
mountains; and nearer, dashing its white breakers against the rocky 
coasts of Merioneth, the southern horizon was bounded by Plinlim- 
mon, and at the east, the eye glanced over the lake of Bala, the two 
Arenig mountains, the two Arrans, the long chain of the Ferwyn 
mountains, to the Breiddin hills on the confines of Shropshire ; and 
dimly, in the distant horizon, was beheld the Wrekin, rising alone 
from the plain of Salop. Having at last satisfied our curiosity, and 
being thoroughly chilled by the keen air of these elevated regions, 
we began to descend the side opposite to that which we had 
come up. The first stage led us to another beautiful mountain lake, 
whose cold clear waters discharge their superabundance in a full 
stream down the side of the mountain. All these waters abound 
with trout, and in some is found the gwyniad, a fish particular to 
rocky Alpine lakes. Following the course of the stream, we came on 
the edge of the craggy cliffs that overlook Tal-y-Llyn lake ; and a 
long and difficult descent conducted us at last on the borders of 
Tal-y-Llyn, where we entered the Dolgelly road." 

Another traveller thus describes this view (Warner's First 
Walk through Wales) : — 

" The afternoon was gloriously fine, and the atmosphere per- 
fectly clear, so that the vast unbounded prospect lay beneath, 
unobscured by cloud, vapour, or any other interruption, to the 
astonished and delighted eye, which threw its glance over a varied 
scene, including a circumference of at least five hundred miles. To 
the north-east was Ireland, like a distant mist upon the ocean ; 
and a little to the right was Snowdon, and the other mountains of 
Caernarvonshire. Further on, in the same direction, the Isle of 



Cader Idris. 



Man, the neighbourhood of Chester, Wrexham, and Salop ; the sharp 
head of the Wrekin, and the undulating summit of the Cleehills. 
To the south, I saw the country round Clifton, Pembrokeshire, St. 
David's, and Swansea ; to the west, a vast prospect of the British 
Channel, bounded by the horizon. Exclusive of these distant ob- 
jects, the nearer views were wonderfully striking. Numberless 
mountains, of different forms, appearances, and elevation, rose in all 
directions ; which, with the various harbours, lakes, and rivers, 
towns, villages, and villas, scattered over the extensive prospect, 
combined to form a scene inexpressibly august, diversified, and im- 
pressive." 

Mr. Bingley ascended this mountain from the Blue Lion, 
an inn kept in his day by the guide. From this spot Mr. 
Bingley declares himself capable of attaining the summit in two 
hours, from which he describes the views to be more varied than 
those from Snowdon, if not so extensive. 

"In descending," he says, "I took a direction eastward of that 
in which I had gone up, and proceeded along that part of the 
mountain called Mynydd Moel. The path in this direction is suffi- 
ciently sloping to allow a person to ride even to the summit. A 
gentleman, mounted on a little Welsh pony, had done this a few l-J 
days before I was here." 

Some years ago, a Cheshire lady rode a pony right over Cader 
Idris, from Dolgelly to Minffordd. Her steed, it need hardly be \\ 
added, was a native. 

Most visitors will cross the river to Cymmer Abbey, a Cister- 
cian house, situated, as usual with that order, in the midst of most 
beautiful natural scenery. It is called by olden writers, and also 



Cader Idris. 39 



by the people of the neighbourhood, Vanner Abbey. The name 
Cymmer is Welsh, and signifies the " meeting of the waters." The 
church, as usual in the English Cistercian buildings, is of the severe 
style which marked the first introduction of the pointed arch. The 
east end is almost covered with ivy. A. more lovely spot than this 
for the purpose can hardly be conceived ; and the enthusiastic tourist 
may be excused who thinks that ruins are much better than complete 
buildings, and that the final cause of Cistercian abbeys was to 
beautify such places as Tintern or Studley or Cymmer. The 
founders were Meredith and Griffith ap Conan, late in the twelfth 
century ; and the chief benefactor was Llewelyn ap Jorwerth, of 
whom we have spoken in our notice of Bethgelert. The abbot's 
house, now the residence of a farmer, is of the fifteenth or six- 
teenth century, and has a hall with an old oak roof. The history 
of Cymmer was not uneventful, and has been thus summed up : — 
" About thirty years subsequent to the supposed period of its 
foundation, it appears to have been in a flourishing state; but 
the evils arising out of war, more especially those which visit the 
seat of warfare, soon cast a paralysing damp on its rising prosperity. 
When Henry the Third was marching a formidable army against 
the Welsh, who had asserted their independence under their intre- 
pid leader, Prince Llewelyn ap Jorwerth, and invested Montgomery 
Castle, a monk of this house, happening to be on a service of espion- 
age, was strictly examined as to the situation and strength of the 
Cambrian forces. Naturally considering it a duty incumbent upon 
every man possessed of patriotism to befriend his own country 
rather than assist an enemy, he gave an exaggerated account of the 
opposing army, and misrepresented their different positions. The 



40 Cader Idris. 



Welsh made a ruse de guerre, feigning a retreat to an extensive 
marsh, not far distant from the site of the first onset, on which the 
English troops eagerly pursued what they conceived to be the 
vanquished enemy ; but being encumbered with heavy armour, and 
still further annoyed by the treacherous nature of the ground, they 
were unable to act offensively, or even retreat, before the light 
active troops to which they were opposed returned to the charge ; 
and after a short conflict, victory decided in favour of the Welsh. 
The King, incensed at the deception, and enraged by the sanguin- 
ary as well as disastrous consequences that ensued, on passing by 
the religious house to which the informer belonged, gave command 
for its destruction by fire. All the out offices were consumed in 
the conflagration ; but the abbot, having expurgated himself and 
the resident brethren from any privacy of the transaction, after 
profound submission, earnest entreaties, and subjecting the estates 
to a fine of three hundred marks, saved the rest of the building. At 
the dissolution, the annual revenues were estimated, according to 
Speed's valuation, at £58 15s., or about £600 a-year in modern 
money." 



CON WAY CASTLE. 




HE river Conway — or, as it is often and 
perhaps more correctly spelt, Conwy — 
falls into the sea at a place as nearly 
as possible half-way between Chester and 
Holyhead. The English city is forty- 
five miles to the east, the Welsh port 
forty to the west. The river at high water 
is about half-a-mile across ; and before 
1826, it could only be crossed by a ferry. 
In 1806 the mails between London and 
Ireland were lost by the swamping of the ferry-boat, and all the 
passengers but two were drowned. Many were the contrivances 
proposed for bridging this dangerous gulf. The tide ran with 
violence, and the banks were shelving near the water's edge. At 
length Telford, then engaged making the great Holyhead road, 
succeeded in crossing it with a suspension bridge, upwards of 
a hundred yards in length, and connected by vast embankments 
with the upper shores. On the western side of the river stands the 
mighty castle, which Edward the First began in 1284, and which 
was built by the same great architect (Henry de Eire ton) who also 



Conway Castle. 



designed Caernarvon. If he had intended Conway for picturesque 
beauty alone, he could not have succeeded better. It is regular in 
plan, and full of symmetry. It appears to grow, as if by nature, 
out of the cliff which it crowns ; and age, which has denuded it of 
its strength, has added tenfold to its picturesqueness. But although 
beauty was by no means left out of the question in a building 
which was to be as much a palace as a castle, strength was Eire- 
ton's first and chief object. He took care that his work should be 
perfect as a fortress, and left its appearance to take care of itself ; 
thus carrying out to the utmost a cardinal principle of mediaeval 
architecture. The result, now that the softening influences of time 
have been at work upon it for nearly six centuries, shows how 
sound the principle was. The use of Conway Castle has departed ; 
its beauty is greater than ever. 

Mr. Hartshorne, whose account of Caernarvon we shall find very 
useful when speaking of that castle, has only touched incidentally on 
Conway. But from what he tells us, it seems that Edward and his 
Queen visited it several times, and on one occasion spent their 
Christmas within its walls. Perhaps it was at this time that the 
wild Welsh came down from their mountain fastnesses, and besieged 
the King and his court so closely, that for some days they were in 
danger of starvation, but were relieved at length by a fleet. 

During the fourteenth century we hear little of Conway, or 
Aberconway, as it is sometimes called. But in the last year of that 
century it emerges from obscurity, and comes prominently forward 
in history. Henry of Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, the son of 
John of Gaunt, having been banished from England by Richard the 
Second ten years before, had returned while Richard was in Ireland, 



Conway Castle. 45 



and had been joined by all those whom the King had alienated by 
his tyrannical government. Even the Duke of York, the next heir 
by right to the throne, espoused Henry's cause; and Eichard, 
hastening over by Milford Haven, marched but a short way towards 
his enemy, when, suspecting the fidelity of his soldiers, he deserted 
them at night, with thirteen companions, and fled to Conway. 
Froissart describes this flight with his usual graphic touch ; but, 
being ignorant of Welsh geography, he speaks of Flint where he 
ought to have said Conway. The following passage contains the 
climax of the story : — 

"When matters could not longer be concealed, it was told to 
King Richard — 'Sire, take care of yourself ; you must have good and 
speedy counsel, for the Londoners have risen with a mighty power, 
and intend to march against you. They have elected the Earl of 
Derby (Duke of Lancaster), your cousin, their commander ; and by 
his advice they act. You may be assured that some strong treaties have 
been entered into between them, since he has crossed the sea by their 
invitation.' The King was thunderstruck at hearing this, and 
knew not what answer to make, for his courage forsook him, and he 
foresaw affairs would end badly unless proper steps were immedi- 
ately taken. Having mused a while, he replied to the knights who 
had given him this information — ' Instantly make ready our men- 
at-arms and archers, and issue a special summons throughout the 
kingdom for the assembling of all my vassals, as I will not fly 
before my subjects.' ' By God,' answered the knights, ' everything 
goes badly, for your men are leaving you and running off. You 
have already lost half your army, and the remainder are panic- 
struck and wavering.' ' What can I do, then?' asked the King. 



46 Conway Castle. 



' We will tell you, sire ; quit the field, for you cannot hold it longer, 
and make for one of your castles, where you can remain until your 
step-brother, Sir John Holland, who is enterprising and courageous, 
and must now have heard of the rebellion, come to you. He will, 
by force or negotiations, bring your affairs into a different state 
from that in which they are at present. When it is known that he 
has taken the field, many who have fled from you will join him.' 
The King agreed to the advice. The Earl of Salisbury was not 
then with him, but in another part of the country ; and, when he 
heard that the Earl of Derby was marching a large army against 
the King, he judged things would turn out badly for his master and 
for all who had been his advisers. He therefore remained quiet, 
waiting for further intelligence. 

" The Duke of York had not accompanied the King on this ex- 
pedition ; but his son, the Earl of Rutland, had been induced to 
join him for two reasons — one, in return for the great affection King 
Richard had shown him ; the other, because he was Constable of 
England. It was therefore necessary he should attend his King. 
Other news was brought the King as he supped. They said — 
' Sire, you must determine how you will act ; for your army is as 
nothing compared to the force marching against you, and a combat 
will be of no avail ; and appease the malcontents as you have 
formerly done, by kind words and fair promises, and punish them 
afterwards at your leisure. There is a castle twelve miles from 
hence, called Flint (Conway), that is tolerably strong ; we therefore 
advise that you fly thither, and remain shut up as long as you 
please, or until you hear other news from Sir John Holland and 
your friends. We will send to Ireland for succour ; and when the 



Conway Castle. 47 



King of France, your father-in-law, shall hear of your distress, he 
will assist you.' King Eichard listened to this advice, and thought 
it good. He selected such as he wished to accompany him, and 
ordered the Earl of Eutland to remain at Bristol with the remnant 
of the army, ready prepared to advance when they should hear 
other news, or when they should be sufficiently strong to combat 
their enemies. These commands were obeyed ; and the King, at- 
tended by his household only, departed on the ensuing morning for 
Flint Castle (Conway), which they entered without showing any 
appearance of making war on anyone, but solely to defend them- 
selves and the place should they be attacked." 

A French metrical chronicler says that it was break of day 
when he arrived at Conway, which is called a place " where 
the houses are covered with tiles." There he found the Earl 
of Salisbury. "At the meeting of the King and the earl, 
instead of joy, there was very great sorrow. Tears, lamenta- 
tions, sighs, groans, and mourning quickly broke forth. Truly it 
was a piteous sight to behold their looks and countenance and 
woful meeting." The earl's face was pale with watching ; he 
related to the King his hard fate, and how he had made his muster, 
and described the impossibility of obtaining men willing to fight 
against the duke. Eichard, we are told, received this intelligence 
with many ejaculations of grief. " No one would believe," says the 
quaint rhymer, " how much the King grieved at it." He continued 
some time at Conway, " where he had no more with him than two 
or three of his intimate friends, sad and distressed. . . . Every- 
one was very uneasy for himself with sufficient cause. Beckoning 
and other persons, we were but sixteen in all." The 



Conway Castle. 



chronicler here bursts forth into a long tirade against the fickleness 
of fortune ; at last very sensibly resolving, " I shall here at present 
speak no more of fortune, for a prudent man would take no notice 
of her benefits, but in a reasonable way. I shall now come to the 
conclusion of King Eichard, who, from sport of fortune together 
with treason, as I have already said, was all alone at Conway, full 
of sorrow, mourning, and dismay. I know full well that he and the 
earl said it would be a great thing to send to his people, whom he had 
lately left at the seaport, Milford Haven, to come thither without 
delay." But a horseman arrived, who told them of the defection of 
the army Richard had left. When this bearer of evil tidings had 
finished his narrative, the King again breaks out into imprecations 
and prayers ; and, if the chronicler may be trusted, his conduct was 
far from dignified. He invoked the judgments of heaven on the 
deserters in a long speech, concluding, " For well I know that when 
the latter day shall come, and He shall hold His judgment, the 
wicked shall neither have refuge nor reprieve, but shall find what 
they have done and spoken ; and then shall they be accursed from 
His mouth, as we are told, in pain infernal. Such is our belief. 
Wherefore, in every respect we take heed unto ourselves ; and this 
it is often said, power hath no law." Then said the earl, " Sire, by 
my honour, you speak the truth." They then agreed to make no 
farther stay at Conway, for they were greatly afraid, and with good 
reason. They went straight to Beaumaris, which was ten miles 
from Conway. 

Beaumaris, which was one of the castles built by Edward the 
First, was usually considered impregnable in that age ; but Richard 
did not remain there long, he went back again to Caernarvon ; every- 



Conway Castle. 



where he lamented his fate, which he had brought upon himself, in 
most unmanly and bitter language. " There was not a man," says 
the chronicler, " so hard-hearted or so firm, who would not have 
wept at the sight of the disgrace that was brought upon him." 

It would be interesting to know the name of the writer to whom 
we are indebted for this curious narrative. Strutt cites him as 
Francis de la Marque. But he does so by a mistranslation of the 
words of the title of his metrical history, where he is described as a 
French gentleman of distinction, un gentilhomme Francois de 
marque. He accompanied a certain knight, his friend ; and the 
two seem to have been sent by the French king (Richard's father- 
in-law) to be present in the Irish war. His account is very impar- 
tial, but he seems to have acquired a personal regard for the King, 
and attended him until his deposition. His metrical history of this 
event was printed in full in the twentieth volume of the Archceolo- 
gia, 1824, under the direction of the Eev. John Webb. The fate 
of Richard the Second was accounted one of the most interesting of 
stories, and in addition to an immense number of more or less 
romantic histories of it which are still extant in manuscript, we 
have Shakespeare's famous play. 

At Caernarvon, Richard was poorly lodged in the castle. It was 
not customary, except in time of necessity, to keep these expensive 
fortresses in any high state of repair ; and when the court moved 
from one to another, large quantities of tapestry, furniture, and 
even glass for the windows, was carried about with the suite. So 
we are not surprised to read that " in his castles to which he retired 
there was no furniture, nor had he anything to lie down upon but 
straw ; really he lay in this manner for four or six nights, for in 



50 Conway Castle. 



truth not a farthing's worth of victuals, or of anything else, was to 
be found in them. Certes, I dare not tell the great misery of the 
king, who stayed not long at Caernarvon, for he had little rest then 
on account of his misfortune and great poverty. He returned to 
Conway, where he thus greatly bewailed his wife : — ■' My mistress 
and my consort ! accursed be the man — little doth he love us — who 
thus shamefully separateth us two!'" There are several bines of 
this lamentation, which seems strange to us, considering that at this 
time Richard was thirty years of age, and a widower, who had only 
been married in form to a child of eleven, who was being brought 
up at Windsor to be his wife. She was eventually sent back to 
France, and married to the eldest son of the Duke of Orleans. Her 
younger sister, Catherine, was, many years later, the wife of Henry 
the Fifth, the son and successor of this very Duke of Lancaster 
from whom Richard was now a fugitive. 

At last a messenger was sent to Henry, who detained him, and 
sent the Earl of Northumberland to take the King. He was at 
Conway still, "in sorrow and dismay;" he knew nothing of the 
coming of the earl, but he often said, " I cannot tell what this can 
mean. . . . What can have become of my brother-in-law of 
Exeter 1 it is eight days since he went to Chester, to bring the duke 
and me to an agreement." Northumberland meanwhde was engaged 
in arrangements for securing the King's person, feeling sure that if 
he was aware of their strength he would not leave the walls of his 
castle. The following passage so well describes the situation of 
Conway, that we must quote it almost entire : — " He formed his 
men into two bodies, under the rough and lofty cliffs of a rock ; 
they were fresh, and eager — persecuting traitors as they were — to 



Conway Castle. 51 



take the King. . . . The subtle earl said to his people, " Keep 
well this pass. I am going over, with five others, to the opposite 
shore. . . . Ere to-morrow's dawn, I will, in prose or in rhyme, 
tell the King such tidings as, unless he be harder than file of 
tempered steel, I think shall make him leave his quarters. But 
beware that ye stir not for your lives, till you see the King or 
myself return." So they put themselves in good array; and the 
earl, without making any stir, went on to Conway to fulfil his word. 
There is an arm of the sea before the town ; but when the earl 
came in front of it, he sent a herald to King Richard, to ask if he 
would be pleased to grant him safe conduct, that he might pass 
over to tell him how the duke was desirous of coming to an 
agreement with him. Then the herald crossed the water, and found 
the King aloft in the castle, hardly assailed by sorrow. He said 
cheerfully to him, " Sire, the honourable Earl of Northumberland 
hath sent me hither to relate to you how desirous Duke Henry is to 
be immediately at peace with you. May it please you, for the better 
knowledge of the truth, to grant him safe conduct and leave to 
come here, for otherwise he will not presume to stir." Salisbury, 
who was there, then said to King Richard that it would be a good 
thing to make him come thither alone. Then the King said aloud 
to the messenger in his own language, " I heartily give the Earl of 
Northumberland permission to pass." He thanked him a hundred 
times, descended from the lofty castle, and passed the water, where 
the earl had been long expecting him. There he related to him 
how King Richard had freely granted him safe conduct, and 
besought him to make haste. Then the earl went on board a 
vessel, and crossed the water. He found King Richard, and the 



52 Conway Castle. 



Earl of Salisbury with him, as well as the Bishop of Carlisle. He 
said to the King, " Sire, Duke Henry hath sent me hither, to the 
end that an agreement should be made between you, and that you 
should be good friends for the time to come. If it be your pleasure, 
sire, and I may be heard, I will deliver to you his message, and 
conceal nothing of the truth : — If you will be a good judge and 
true, and will bring up all those whom I shall here name to you, by 
a certain day, for the ends of justice ; listen to the parliament 
which you shall lawfully cause to be held between you at West- 
minster ; and restore him to be chief judge of England, as the duke 
(his father) and all his ancestors had been for more than a hundred 
years." 

At length, and after much parley, Richard consented to the 
terms proposed by Northumberland, who, on his part, took an oath 
on the Sacrament, in the chapel of Conway Castle, that the 
intentions with which he had come were perfect, fair, straightfor- 
ward, and open. On receiving this assurance, Richard started for 
Flint, preceded by Northumberland, who awaited him where his 
men had been placed in ambush. When the King and his com- 
panions had passed, they came out and cut off his retreat, making 
him virtually a prisoner. The rest of the story is well known ; and 
as it does not concern Conway Castle, we may summarise it, and 
refer the reader to Shakespeare and Froissart, and the numberless 
other writers by whom the tragical end of King Richard the Second 
has been narrated. He was met at Flint by Henry, who, on the 
29th September, extorted from him a deed of resignation of the 
crown ; and, a few days later, the House of Lords decided, on the 
motion of the Earl of Northumberland, whose perjury and treachery 



Conway Castle. 53 



we have described, that Richard should be placed in perpetual 
confinement in some secret place. Within six months it was 
reported that he had died at Pontcfract ; and his body, having been 
exhibited at St. Paul's, was buried at Langley, in Hertfordshire, 
but eventually removed to Westminster Abbey by Henry V., where 
his tomb had probably been made in his lifetime, and where the 
curious epitaph is still to be seen : — " Obruit hereticos — et eorum 
stravit amicos" (he burned heretics and slaughtered their friends). 
In a later part of our French chronicler's work, he notices a curious 
prophecy regarding Conway, which, he says, was told him by an 
ancient knight, as they rode together towards Chester : — " He told 
.me that Merlin and Bede had, from the time in which they lived, 
prophesied of the taking and ruin of the King, and that if I were in 
his castle he would show it me in form and manner as I had seen 
it come to pass, saying thus — ' There shall be a king in Albion, 
who shall reign for the space of twenty or two-and-twenty years, in 
great honour and in great power, and shall be allied and united 
with those of Gaul, which king shall be undone in the ports of the 
north in a triangular place.' Thus the knight told me it was 
written in a book belonging to him. The triangular place he 
applied to the town of Conway ; and for this he had a very good 
reason, for I can assure you that it is a triangle, as though it had 
been so laid down by a true and exact measurement. In the said 
town of Conway was the King sufficiently undone ; for the Earl of 
Northumberland drew him forth, as you have already heard, by the 
treaty which he made with him ; and from that time he had no 
power. Thus the knight held this prophecy to be true, and attached 
thereunto great faith and credit ; for such is the nature of them in 



Conway Castle. 



their country, that they very thoroughly believe in prophecies, 
phantoms, and witchcraft, and employ (have recourse to) them 
right willingly. Yet, in my opinion, this is not right, but is a great 
want of faith." 

Upon this passage Mr. Webb, the translator, makes the following 
note : — " The triangular shape of the town of Conway may be well 
distinguished from the small terrace or rampart at the western 
entrance, which commands the whole of the walls. Edward I., by 
whom it was laid down and fortified, had his choice of the form : 
it has been thought to bear reference to that of a "Welsh harp ; but 
this is too visionary a conjecture. No doubt it was adapted to the 
nature of the site and the exigencies of the situation. Such was 
clearly the case from the outline of it ; and I must take leave to 
correct the author's assertion as to its being exactly triangular, a 
little variation to the left, owing to the cast of the bank, being 
visible from the point already mentioned. . . . The castle 
commanded the port and passage over the river, and protected 
a frequented entrance into the interior of Wales. The position was 
admirably selected, and the work capitally executed. The masonry 
of the whole of the walls is of a very superior kind as to strength 
and beauty ; and much of it promises, unless disturbed by violence, 
to resist the efforts of time for centuries to come. Here Eichard, 
with proper precautions and a moderate force, might have felt 
himself secure ; or, as a last resource, might have found means of 
escaping by sea. Conway must have been neglected, or very ill 
defended, after the King was enticed out of it. Gwilym-ap-Tudor 
and Ehys (his brother) received a pardon (2 Henry IV.) for having, 
with many of their people, taken the castle and burnt the town. 



Conway Castle. 55 



This fortress had been, or was afterwards, used as a prison. John 
Claydon, a Lollard of London, was confined in it for two years, 
when Braybrook, who died in 1404, was Bishop of London." 

In another note, Mr. Webb says that "in the course of his 
inquiries, not long since, he took this metrical history, and compared 
it upon the spot with the castle of Conway. There he recognised 
the venerable arch of the eastern window of the chapel still entire, 
where must have stood the altar at which mass was performed 
when the fatal oath was taken. The chapel, in which Richard 
conferred with his friends, is at the eastern extremity of the hall." 

The plan of the town, with the castle at one corner, does indeed 
resemble a harp, being three-cornered, owing not to any intention 
of the builder, but rather to the exigencies of the position at the 
extremity of a land of promontory washed on two sides by the sea 
and the river. 

When Richard was at Conway, he was attended by a Welsh 
gentleman who had long been attached to him, and who had 
probably been knighted a short time before. He gave evidence in 
the famous Scrope and Grosvenor controversy as Sir Owen de 
Glendore, so called from the territory of Glendwrdwy which he 
owned in Merioneth. He was with Richard at Flint, when he was 
dismissed by Henry ; and, returning to his home, was eventually 
destined, as Owen Glendower, to lure to their destruction the Earl 
of Northumberland, whose base share in betraying Richard we have 
already seen, and his son, the more famous Henry, Lord Percy, 
usually known by the nomme de guerre of Hotspur. We have 
occasion to speak more at length of Glendower in another place. 

We hear little or nothing of Conway for many years after this 



Conway Castle. 



time. The civilisation of Wales was still far from having been 
accomplished, and no doubt a large garrison was kept in this and 
other castles of that turbulent country. The insurrection of 
Glendower, the Wars of the Roses, the many circumstances in the 
early life of Henry the Seventh which connected him with Wales, 
besides his Welsh origin and his surname of Tudor, or Theodore, all 
conspired to keep Conway and the other fortresses of this coast in 
the full stream of current events until it next emerges prominently, 
which was not until the great rebellion, when it fell into the 
custody of the warlike Archbishop Williams, himself a Welshman, 
and one of the last ecclesiastical dignitaries who ever held civil and 
military power in England. Mr. Evans thus summarises this 
episode in the history of Conway : — 

" At the commencement of the civil wars, it was garrisoned for 
King Charles the First by Dr. John Williams, Archbishop of York, 
to whose custody numbers of the country gentlemen confided their 
plate and other valuables and movables, receiving a receipt from 
the arch-prelate, who considered himself answerable for their 
restoration on the return of better times. He at the same time 
bestowed the government of the castle on his nephew, William 
Hookes, in the year 1643. In May, 1645, Prince Rupert inipoli- 
tically superseded the Archbishop in the command of North Wales. 
Irritated at this insulting conduct, it being done without the 
smallest attention to give him any virtual security for the property 
of which he had previously received the charge, Williams became 
decisively disgusted ; and having received an offer from Mytton of 
protection, under the Parliamentarian authority, he joined issue 
with that general, and assisted in the reduction of Conwy. The 



Conway Castle. 57 



town was taken by storm on August 15, 1646, and the castle 
surrendered on the 10th of November. For these services, the 
Archbishop, who had received a wound in the neck, obtained a 
general pardon for his prior opposition to the Parliament, and a 
release from the sequestration that had been made of his estates ; 
and Mytton, whose character partook more of haughtiness than 
avarice, restored to every individual the property previously 
entrusted to the arch-prelate's care." 

Archbishop Williams deserves a longer notice than this. He 
was employed in so many various capacities, that his name turns 
up almost unexpectedly in half-a-dozen different and distinct places. 
He was Dean of Westminster ; he was Keeper of the Great Seal ; 
he was Bishop of Lincoln ; he was a patron of art, and encouraged 
the English manufacture of tapestry, among other enterprises ; he 
defended Conway ; and his portrait occurs in one of Hollar's prints 
with a gun upon his shoulder. Dean Stanley, in his Memorials of 
Westminster Abbey, has frequent occasion to speak of him. Fuller, 
in his Worthies, mentions that he was born at Conway, or rather, 
as he writes it, at " Aber Conway ;" but apparently Fuller did not 
admire Williams, for he says, " I have offended his friends because I 
wrote so little in his praise, and distasted his foes because I said 
so much in his defence. But I had rather to live under the indig- 
nation of others for relating what may offend, than die under the 
accusation of my own conscience for reporting what is untrue." 
Yet learning owed something to Williams, who founded the library 
of Westminster Abbey. He attended the deathbed of James the 
First, and preached his funeral sermon from the text, " Solomon 
slept with his fathers, and he was buried in the city of David, his 



58 Conway Castle. 



father;" taking care not to read the nest line, which tells of 
Rehoboam. Charles the First loved him not, whether for this 
sermon or for other reasons ; and Laud was made Archbishop of 
Canterbury over his head. During one of the early outbreaks of 
fanatical fury among the Presbyterians, he defended the Abbey, " as 
he afterwards defended Conway Castle." He was promoted to the 
Archbishopric of York just before the war broke out, and followed 
the King to the North. His death took place a few weeks only 
after the execution of King Charles. He was certainly the most 
distinguished of the natives of Conway ; but whether his distinction 
corresponded to any great mental or moral qualifications, we are 
not prepared to determine. A letter is still extant in the collection 
of Mr. Orrnsby Gore, at Brogynton, in Shropshire, in which, under 
the date of July 27, 1647, King Charles, then at Ruperry, orders 
the goods in the castle of Aberconway to be kept safe from 
embezzlement, and to let the respective owners have them, they 
having been put in there for safety while the place was in charge 
of the Archbishop. This letter rather militates against the statement 
of Evans, quoted above, that the goods were restored by General 
Mytton. 

But after sustaining and surviving so many shocks of war, 
Conway was ruined in time of peace. The Parliamentarians, 
though they dismantled so many other castles, spared Conway. 
The Commonwealth left it unmolested ; and it was not until 1665, 
in the reign of Charles the Second, that it was dismantled. Among 
the Welsh retinue of Richard the Second was a certain knight, 
called, probably from the place of his birth, Henry Conway. His 
descendants were seated in Flintshire, and were successively in the 



Conway Castle. 59 



service of several English monarchs. Sir Hugh was knighted by- 
Henry the Seventh ; Edward Conway was usher to Henry the 
Eighth; Sir John was made a banneret in the Scottish war of 
Edward the Sixth. The grandson of this soldier was the first Lord 
Conway. He had an estate in Ulster, as well as one in Warwick- 
shire, and was made an Irish peer as Viscount Kflultagh. His 
son obtained from Charles the Second a grant of Conway Castle ; 
and no sooner did he gain possession, than he ordered an agent to 
remove the timber, iron, lead, and other materials, under a pretence 
of requiring them for the Bang's service. It is generally understood 
that they were employed in repairing the buddings on his estate at 
Lisburn, in Ireland ; and notwithstanding many remonstrances 
from the local authorities, the castle was unroofed, the floors 
removed, and what had been up to that time in fairly perfect 
condition reduced to a ruin. Mr. Bulkeley, Mr. Wynn, and others 
of rank and influence in the county, were distressed at the deter- 
mination of Lord Conway, and seem, before he carried it out, to 
have interfered with the steward, Milward ; for the following letter 
is extant, and was printed by Pennant (Tours in Wales, Vol. n., 
Appendix) : — - 

" Honb le Friends, 

" I have had the honor to receive yo r letter of the 20 th 
Sep', in which you are pleas'd to enquire of me whether my servant 
Milward doth act by my order, for the taking down of the lead, 
timber, and iron of Conway Castle ; in answer to which question, 
I do by this acknowledg it to be my act and deed ; and that the 
said Milward is employed by me to dispose of the timber and iron 



60 Conway Castle. 



according to such direction as I gave him ; and to transporte the 
lead into Ireland, where I hope it will be more serviceable to his 
Ma tie then it was in this country. And having this opportunity of 
addressing myselfe to you, I humbly beseech you to take off the 
restraint which you have put upon his proceedings, and to affoord 
him yo r favour in it ; for I am already prejudiced by the losse of 
shipping, and an opportune season for transportation of the lead ; 
yet I shall esteeme this as a particular obligation upon mee, and be 
ready to expresse it by all the service in my power to every one of 
you, that you are pleased to grant this at my request, which 
otherwise may put me to some trouble and delay. And I doubt 
not of meeting occasions to testifie my being, 
" Hon ble Sirs, 

" Yo r affectionate and obedient Serv*, 

"CONWAY & KILULTA. 
" Eaglet, in Warwickshire, 
16 th Oct., 1665. 

" For the Hon ble Thomas Bulkeley, Esq r ; 
Colonell Wtnn, Hugh Wtnn, Esq r ; 
Thomas Vadghan, Esq r , His Ma tie ' s 
Deputy-Livetenants in North Wales." 

Pennant quotes a notice of Conway in ruin from Dyer's poem 
of Grongar Hill. The lines will describe its period of decay : — 

" Deep at its feet in Conway's flood 
His sides are clothed with waving wood ; 
And ancient towers crown his brow, 
That cast an awful look below ; 
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps, 
And with her arms from falling keeps ; 



Conway Castle. 61 



So both a safety from the wind 
On mutual dependence find. 
'Tis now the raven's blank abode, 
Tis now th' appartment of the toad ; 
And there the fox securely feeds, 
And there the poisonous adder breeds, 
Concealed in ruins, moss, and weeds ; 
While ever and anon there falls 
Huge heaps of hoary, mouldered walls. 
Yet time has seen, that lifts the low, 
And level lays the lofty brow — 
Has seen this broken pile complete, 
Big with the vanity of state ; 
But transient is the smile of Fate ! 
A little rule, a little sway, 
A sunbeam in a winter's day, 
Is all the proud and mighty have 
Betwixt the cradle and the grave." 

Some care is now taken of Conway Castle. It is rented by a 
lady, who holds it from the Crown for 6s. 8d. a-year, and the 
service of a basket of fish to the Queen when she passes by this 
way ; and something is done to arrest the progress of decay, and to 
preserve what remains for future ages. The tall towers overhang 
the railway, and appear almost to threaten it ; but though the 
engineers at first proposed to run their line right through the 
castle, no harm has come to it from this cause, and the number of 
people who annually visit it is greatly increased. The following 
brief and simple enumeration of the principal features of the ruins 
occurs in Murray's Handbook to North Wales : — 

" In plan it is nearly a parallelogram, with eight drum towers 
40 feet in diameter, four at the angles, and four intermediate on 
the north and south sides, rising nearly from the edge of the 



Conway Castle. 



precipice, and connected with lofty curtains. In advance of the 
east and west ends are raised platforms, each having three low 
bastion or bartizan towers. From the right on the north side is a 
sallyport, to which access was gained by means of a river-path 
winding up the rock ; while on the same position on the west is 
the main gate, approaching over a steep drawbridge, and through 
a covered entrance with flanking turrets. The interior is unequally 
divided by a cross wall, which forms a sort of inner court marked 
by four of the round towers, each of which has a lofty stair turret. 
The principal feature in the interior is the hall of Llewelyn, on the 
south side, 130 feet long. It is now roofless, but was once ribbed 
with eight stone ribs, of which four remain ; and furnished with '] 
three fireplaces, as though intended to be converted by tapestry 
into several chambers. It is also lighted by nine early English 
windows. The vaults underneath were magazines for stores. It 
appears from old documents that this hall was built on account of 
the original one being too small. The two eastern towers are 
called the King's and Queen's ; and in the latter, which is the most 
northerly, is an oratory, a beautiful little recess in the thickness 
of the wall, with a polygon east end, groined. It contains seven bays, 
and some trefoil panels as sedilia. In the lower chamber are some 
curious fragments of decorated tracing. Under the King's Tower 
is a vault, which was accessible only through a trap-door in the 
floor above. On the south side is the keep, and a tower called 
Twrdarn or Broken Tower, the base of which has been at one time 
completely excavated by the irreverent inhabitants of the town, 
and now presents a dangerous-looking chasm, almost overhanging 
the railway. 



Conway Castle. 63 



The dangers of the inlet which Conway defends had long been 
famous before Telford succeeded in bridging the chasm. Dean 
Swift is said to have written some doggerel verses on the dangers of 
the road, and they are alluded to by Johnson. But nothing was 
done of much practical import till the great road of Telford was 
constructed, and the suspension bridge successfully designed and 
made. This was in 1829 ; and it was certainly high time some- 
thing should be done. We have already spoken of the loss of a 
mail-boat ; but Mr. Cliffe thus details the list of such casualties at 
Menai, which will give an idea of the perils of travel in these 
regions before the two suspension bridges were constructed : — 

" On the 5th Dec, 1664, a boat was upset in crossing Menai 
Strait, and only one person was saved out of 81 passengers. His 
name was Hugh Williams. On the same day and month, 1785, 
another boat was capsized with 60 passengers, who were all 
drowned, with the exception of one, a Hugh Williams ! ! On the 
5th Aug., 1820, a third boat with 25 passengers was upset, and all 
were drowned, excepting one, who also bore the charmed name of 
Hugh Williams! ! ! Again, on the 20th May, 1842, a boat was 
crossing the Menai, near the spot where the above catastrophes 
happened, when she upset with 15 passengers, and all perished 
save one ; but in this instance the name of the survivor was 
Eichard Thomas." 

Mr. Cliffe says of the suspension bridge : — " The passage of the 
Conway at full tide is more than half-a-mile across, was formerly 
rather formidable to travellers, there being a very rapid tideway, 
and the ferrymen being most rapacious. On Christmas-day, 1806, 
an overloaded ferry-boat, conveying the Irish mail-coach, was upset 



Conway Castle. 



during a heavy swell, and only two persons saved out of 15. The 
improvements determined on by Government in the coast Holyhead 
road involved the construction of the chain bridge, which was 
begun, on Mr. Telford's plans, in 1822, and finished in 1826. Its 
width, measured between the centres of the supporting towers, is 
327 feet. 'The roadway is made of layers of plank, affixed by 
vertical bars to two sets of suspending chains, each of which 
contains four chains, and each chain five bars ; the chains are 
fastened into the rock under the castle on one side, and deep into 
the solid rock on the island on the other.' The embankment across 
the sands is 2013 feet long, and is constructed of mountain clay, 
faced with loose stones, which have firmly withstood the most 
violent gales." 

But fine as the suspension bridge is, it is surpassed by the 
tubular bridge, which Mr. Stephenson made before trying the 
wider passage at Menai. It "was commenced early in 1847. A 
steam-engine, extensive workshops, and other appliances, were 
erected on the river-side, a little above the castle; an immense 
platform was constructed on a piece of level ground that projected 
into the river ; and the first tube was completed in about twelve 
months, its notation on pontoons having been effected on Monday, 
March 6, 1848. Six pontoons, each 100 feet long, were used for 
the purpose ; and as this was the first experiment of the kind, the 
interest was naturally intense. In a few hours the colossal gallery 
was warped alongside its piers. The power employed to elevate 
was concentrated in a couple of steam-engines, and two hydraulic 
rams. Only four lifts, of 6 feet each, were required at Conwy from 
these enormous hydraulic presses, 24 feet being the height of the 



Conway Castle. 65 



bridge above the tidal level. When elevated to the required height, 
it at first ' dangled in the air, as though a mere plaything in the 
hands of the two hydraulic giants ;" and it was finally adjusted in 
its place on Monday, the 17th April. An engine went through on 
the following day. — The second tube was floated on October 12th 
of the same year, and finished on November 15th following. Each 
tube is 412 feet long, 14 feet wide, and 22-^ feet high at the ends, 
and weighs about 1300 tons. The height gradually increases 
towards the centre, a form obviously calculated to secure additional 
trength, as well as to prevent an accumulation of rain water : at 
that point it is 25^ feet high, and galvanised iron is used for the 
covering throughout. These tubes have been exposed to severe 
tests, but the deflection has been exceedingly trifling ; and 
experience has proved that that which arises from the temperature 
does not vary up and down more than an inch." 

It bas been remarked, that if one of these tubes was set on end 
in St. Paul's Churchyard, it would reach about 12 feet above the 
cross on the top of the dome. 






MOEL SIABOD. 

LTHOUGH people who are willing to 
exert themselves in climbing, choose, 
a rule, to attack Snowdon before they try 
their Hmbs and lungs by an ascent oi 
Moel Siabod, it is by no means to b 
neglected, if for no other reason because 
of the magnificent view its summit affords 
All views from Snowdon suffer for th© 
absence of Snowdon itself, so conspicuous 
from every other mountain in the neigh 
bourhood ; but those who look from the head of Moel Siabod have 
the advantage of including Snowdon in their range, and more than 
gain in interest what they lose in elevation. Thus in many senses 
is it true that lookers-on see most of the game ; and there are other 
situations in life besides the highest worthy to satisfy an ordinary 
ambition. Moel Siabod stands only ninth in order after Snowdon, 
but its situation gives it advantages which some of the greater 
altitudes do not enjoy. Although it wants seven hundred feet of 
the height of the highest, it yet stands better in several respectsj 
than those peaks, which, by their nearness to the monarch himselfJ 



Moel Siabod. 69 



are dwarfed in their apparent proportions. Snowdon is surrounded 
by the lesser mountains, as by great bulwarks or buttresses to 
sustain his weight; and instead of standing like most great 
mountains, as part of a prolonged range or sierra, he is in the 
centre of a vast heap or agglomeration, and is surrounded by a 
kind of court, or band of satellites, which stands near him on all 
sides — north, south, east, and west. Moel Siabod is the eastern 
outpost. 

The ascent is not very difficult from the north or west ; but the 
eastern side is almost perpendicular. Along the edge of the 
declivity, however, towards the south, is a safe and comparatively 
easy path, much used by pedestrians for descent. There is a cairn 
close to the summit. Everywhere the mountain shows the same 
glossy face, except where, in a kind of amphitheatre, lies the small 
dark tarn of Llyn-y-foel. On the southern slope is the castle of 
Dolwyddelan ; and this, and the slate quarries, form the two points 
chiefly interesting in the neighbourhood of Moel Siabod, apart 
from Snowdon. 

Dolwyddelan is situated on a high craggy knoll, one tower only 
remainiug, though two were to be seen in the time of Pennant. 
There is a portion of the other. "This castle was formerly the 
residence of Iorwerth Drwyndwn (the Broken Nose), father of 
Llewelyn the Great, who was born here. The claims of Iorwerth 
to the throne of Wales were disallowed, in consequence of his 
deformity. In the time of Henry VII. this district was torn to 
pieces by the quarrels of rival families and clans." Eoscoe says : — 
"To such lengths did they carry their animosity, that Meredydd 
ap Ievan is stated to have purchased the castle as a place of defence 



Moel Siabod. 



i: 



within which to retreat from the violence of his own relations' } 
although the immediate vicinity was beset with bands of robbei J 
and outlaws. His predecessor, Hoel ap Evan, was a noted robber J 
chief, yet Meredydd did not hesitate to take possession of his nevi 
castle. ' For I had rather,' he exclaimed, ' fight with outlaws anc 
thieves than with my own blood and kindred. If I continue in 
my own house at Efionedd, I must either kill my own relations 
be kdled by them.'" 

Higher up the valley is Penamaen, a house built by the sam 
Meredydd, who also founded the present church, in which are th 
tombs of his family. Prince Llewelyn ap Yorwerth was the same 
of whom mention will be found in our notice of Beddgelert. 

Within a few miles of Moel Siabod, and indeed almost upoi 
his flanks, are several of the famous slate quarries, which hav 
always been objects of interest since their working was commencec 
upon the present extensive scale. The great Penrhyn quarries 
at Nant Francon, a very short distance to the north. There ar< j 
many descriptions of them from which we might quote. But ii 
all matters relating to articles of trade and commerce, tin 
fluctuations of fashion, and changes in the modes of operation, ar 
so frequent and so great, that it would be almost impossible fc 
recognise in the present day the work of ten or a dozen years age 
Fortunately, or unfortunately rather, considerable interest hy 
recently been excited by one of those miserable disputes which dj 
so much to hamper the prosperity of all kinds of trade in thlj is 
country. The contest between capital and labour in the sla 
quarries will, we trust, be a thing of the past, long before thesl J3-' 
pages are in the hands of our readers. Meanwhile, we venture tt ')' 



Mod Siabod. 71 



quote from the columns of a London daily newspaper/- a pleasantly 
written and sufficiently complete account of the slate quarries : — 

" How long there has been slate in the mountain of Nant 
Francon — better known as the Penrhyn Quarry — is a question for 
geologists to decide. But that slate quarried here has been a 
marketable article since the reign of Queen Elizabeth is testified by 
a document still extant, in which one Sion Tudur writes to Dean 
Rowland Tomos, of Bangor, with an order for 3000 slates. A 
curious feature about this business transaction is, that it is carried 
on in verse, Sion laying himself out in fifty lines, composed in one 
of the twenty-four metres which are to this day found barely 
sufficient for the need of the Welsh bard. In this cwydd Mr. 
Tudur, who dates from Rhyl in the year 1580, informs his 
correspondent that he is at the time residing in a house which is 
simply thatched, and therefore inconveniently amenable to the 
influence of the weather. He begs the Dean to see that the slates 
are a fair sample, and they are to be brought down to Aberogwen 
(now known as Port Penrhyn), where a ship wdl convey them to 
Rhyl. Finally, in a touching couplet, which brings the interesting 
order to a conclusion, Sion prays that the Dean may ' live three 
lives,' and that there may be no broken slates in the consignment 
from Aberogwen. For more than 200 years after this epistle was 
written Nant Francon appears to have been common ground, upon 
which anyone quarried at will, or in pursuance of rights, the 
foundation of which was, to say the least, hidden in the haze of a 
romantic past. Towards the close of the last century, the first 
Lord Penrhyn acquired the right of absolute proprietorship in the 
* Daily News, 5tli October, 1871. 



72 Moel Siabod. 



mountain, which was then beginning to be well known as 
containing good slate rock. He speedily put the quarry in regular 
working trim, and one year cleared as much as £80. To-day, 
when the quarry is in full work, a million slates are sent down to 
Port Penrhyn every week, and the wages paid to the quarry men 
average from £120,000 to £130,000 a-year." 

The writer proceeds to state the rate of wages, and the causes 
and the effects of the strike, and other things, into which we need 
not follow him. He also details the rates at which the rock is let 
to the quarrymen, mentioning that once a-month the stone is 
apportioned among the men ; and goes on to speak of the slate 
itself, and the form in which it is brought out of the quarry : — 

" The quarry is divided into pones or galleries, each bearing a 
name, generally connected with some event of importance in the 
Penryhn family. Thus there is the ' Fitzroy,' which was opened 
about the time Lord Penrhyn married the daughter of the Duke of 
Grafton ; the ' Lord,' which was commenced at the time the peerage 
was revived in the Pennant family ; and the ' Eushout,' a name 
which has no reference to the sudden desertion of the quarry by the j 
men on the morning of the second strike, but was so called in 
compliment to the family where the son and heir to the Penrhyn 
title and estates found his bride. These galleries are on various" 
levels, connected with one another by steps or rope-ladders, up 
which ' Eover,' a dog that knows more about slate and the general 
business of quarrying than any other quadruped in England or 
Wales, gravely climbs in company with the party. Dog and pup, 
' Rover ' has now dwelt in the quarry for fourteen years, and getting 
short of breath and being fat withal, has to submit to the indignity 






Mod Si a bod. 73 



of being helped over the topmost round of the rope-ladder by means 
of an umbrella handle inserted in his collar. But in the water 
balances no such difficulty arises, and ' Rover ' never misses an 
opportunity of making a journey up or down. These ' water 
balances ' are models of simplicity and mighty power. In course of 
time immense banks have been formed at one side of the quarry by 
the debris of rock and rubble rejected by the quarrymen. These 
banks have been levelled, and on them are erected the rows of sheds 
where the slates are split and dressed. Over the sides of these 
banks is also ' tipped ' the countless tons of ' rubbish ' daily made 
in the process of getting the slate. But how to get it there ? The 
question appears one beside which the historical difficulty of the 
apple in the dumpling sinks into insignificance. It is, however, 
very satisfactorily answered by an examination of the water 
balances. Somewhere near the centre of the bank a shaft is sunk 
to the level of the lowest working of the quarry. At the top, level 
with the bank and working in a sort of pulley, is a stout chain, to 
either end of which is attached a wooden box with a false bottom, 
below which is a tank capable of holding five tons of water. The 
contrivance is based much on the principle of a pair of scales — 
when there is weight in one it goes down to the bottom, and the 
other kicks the beam, and vice versd. The weight is supplied by 
water brought from the inexhaustible store of a mountain lake, and 
turned on at will by a tap from a reservoir. When scale No. 1 is 
at the bottom of the shaft, with a four-ton load of slate or rubbish 
waiting to come up to the bank, five tons of water is allowed to 
rush into scale No. 2, which is at the top, and down it goes, a drop 
of 250 feet, bringing up scale No. 1 with a swift, easy motion, 



74 Mod Siabod. 



checked by powerful brakes. Then the water- valves are opened, the 
water rushes out, the scale is loaded, and scale No. 1, coming down 
with its five tons of water, carries up in its turn scale No. 2. The 
band is tunnelled from the lowest working level, and a tramway 
laid down, along which the rubbish and slate blocks are brought, 
wheeled on to the scale, whirled aloft by the balance, delivered on 
to another pair of rails, wheeled whither they are wanted, emptied, 
and so back to the depths again. There are in all sixty miles of 
tramway, traversing the quarry from every point of the compass, 
but all converging on the water balances. 

" When the slate blocks are delivered in the sheds, the work of 
splitting and dressing commences. The obliging manner in which 
a piece of slate splits up on the slightest indication of human 
desire is at first sight almost miraculous. A man takes a rough 
block, two or three inches thick, and some two or three feet long 
by one or two broad. He places at one end of the block a broad 
chisel, gives it a tap with his hammer, works the chisel about by a 
motion of his wrist, another tap or two, more motion of the wrist, 
and lo ! the block is split clean down, as if it had been a conglo- 
meration of cardboard insufficiently amalgamated with paste. This 
operation is repeated as often as necessary, till the slate is split into 
pieces of the thickness of those we see on house-roofs. This done, 
the dresser takes rough pieces of slate in hand, and placing them in 
a framework, with gauges of the various sizes required, brings down 
upon them, by the working of a treadle, a huge knife that cuts 
them as evenly as if they were sandwiches. The various sizes of 
slates are, throughout the trade, oddly denominated 'Queens,' 
'Marchionesses,' 'Duchesses,' 'Countesses,' and 'Ladies.' These 



Mod Siaborf. 75 



names were given to them in the infancy of the trade, more than a 
century ago, by General Warburton ; and they now gravely appear 
in circulars and prices current. The late Mr. Leicester, a North 
Wales county judge, wrote a clever poem on this peculiarity, which 
is worth quoting. It runs thus : — 

' It has truly been said, as we all must deplore, 
That Grenville and Pitt have made peers by the score ; 
But now 'tis asserted, unless 1 have blundered, 
There's a man that makes peeresses here by the hundred. 
He regards neither Portland, nor Grenville, nor Pitt, 
But creates them at once without patent or writ ; 
By the stroke of a hammer, without the "Kin g's aid, 
A lady, or countess, or duchess is made. 
Yet high is the station from which they are sent, 
And all their great titles are got by descent ; 
And where'er they are seen, in a palace or shop, 
Their rank they preserve, and are still at the top. 
Yet no merit they claim from their birth or connection, 
But derive their chief worth from their native complexio^n. 
And all the best judges prefer, it is said, 
A countess in blue to a duchess in red. 
This countess or lady, though crowds may be present, 
Submits to be dressed by the hands of a peasant. 
And you'll see when her grace is but once in his clutches, 
With how little respect he will handle a duchess ! 
Close united they seem, and yet all who have tried 'em, 
Soon discover how easy it is to divide 'em. 
No spirit have they — they're as thin as a rat ; 
The countess wants life, and the duchess is flat. 
No passion or warmth to the countess is known, 
And her grace is as cold and as hard as a stone. 
Yet I fear you will find, if you watch them a little, 
That the countess is frail, and the duchess is brittle ; 



Moel Siabod. 



Too high for a trade, yet without any joke, 

Tho' they never are bankrupts, they often are broke ; 

And tho' not a soul even pilfers or cozens, 

They are daily shipped off and transported by dozens ! 

In France, Jacobinical France, we have seen 

How nobles have bled by the fierce guillotine. 

But what's the French engine of death to compare 

To the engine which Grenfield and Bramah prepare ? 

That democrat engine by which we all know 

Ten thousand great duchesses fall at one blow ; 

And long may his engine its wonders display, 

Long level with ease all the rocks in its way, 

'Till the vale of Nant Francon of slates is bereft, 

Nor a lady, or countess, or duchess is left.' 

" When the slates are finished they are loaded into trucks, anc 
sent down by tramway to Port Penrhyn, a distance of six miles. 
Here there is a splendid pier 800 yards long, round which, in full 
working service, an average of 30 ships are moored, all busilj 
engaged in loading slates under an organised system, which, like 
all else in connection with this great undertaking, seems to have 
solved the great problem of doing the most work in the shortest 
time, and in the completest manner." 






(§K. 



uf.v 



' m - 




CAERNARVON CASTLE. 

HE greatest of the Plantagenets, as Edward 
the First has been called, though he would 
probably have disowned the surname, was 
a man who could not lightly be turned from 
his purpose. In 1277 he determined on 
the conquest of Wales. In 1283 he had 
accomplished his purpose — as far, that is, 
as it ever was accomplished — by mere force 
of arms. Centuries had to drag painfully 
on before the ancient Britons could be subdued to the Anglo-Saxon 
and Norman invaders of their island ; and though Edward, with 
the foresight of a great ruler, established wherever he could English 
institutions and laws, he could only overawe the country by vast 
fortifications, and keep it under his power by an enormous military 
establishment. Everywhere throughout North and South Wales 
the Edwardian castles attest his determination, and the persistence 
with which he carried it through. There are few among them 
more interesting than Caernarvon, either for historical association, 
for architectural importance, or for natural beauty of situation. 

The admirers of Edward have had much to do to protect his 



Caernarvon Castle. 



memory from the charges of severity, and even of cruelty, which 
have been brought against him by Welsh and by Scottish historians 
and poets. Among these charges, none perhaps is more often made 
than that of the massacre of the Welsh bards, and none can be 
more easily refuted. Poetry is much to blame for the propagation 
of such historical fables. Though the fact may be disproved, the 
verse to which it is married is immortal ; and as long as schoolboys 
learn to cry — 

•' Euin seize thee, ruthless King, 
Confusion on thy banners wait ; 
Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing. 
They mock the air in idle state ;" 

and so on, the tale will be repeated, even though it be not believed. 

" On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, 

Smeared with gore, and ghastly pale ; 

Far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail ; 

The famished eagle screams and passes by." 

But Gray wanted only to enhance the effect of his ode, and 
cared little to clear the reputation of Edward. 

It was after the second rebellion of the Welsh that the great 
chain of English castles was laid upon Wales. In 1282, David, 
brother of Llewelyn whom Edward had subdued four years 
previously, attacked, on Palm Sunday, the castle of Hawarden. 
He put the garrison to the sword, and carried off the governor, 
Roger de Clifford, who, though he was wounded, was loaded with 
fetters, and hurried over the mountains to some secret fastness. 
David was soon joined by his brother, and overran the Marches, 
besieged Flint, and destroyed everywhere the property of the 



Caernarvon Castle. 81 

English with fire and rapine. Edward quickly assembled his army 
at Rhuddlaw. Here we may quote the narrative of the anonymous 
author of the Greatest of the Plantagenets, though in many 
particulars he is rather Edward's apologist than his historian : — 

" Though insulted and outraged, Edward did not reject the idea 
of peace. The Archbishop again tendered his services ; and the 
King permitted him to go to Llewelyn in the hope of bringing him 
to more reasonable counsels. This attempt proved a fruitless one, 
but it occupied some weeks. The Welsh prince handed in a list of 
grievances. They were just such as might have been expected. 
The country between Chester and Conway, formerly 'debatable 
ground,' had been ceded to the English, who had established their 
own laws, and their own courts and judges and officers. The Welsh 
found themselves in these parts ruled over by men whose language 
they could not understand. By the Welsh laws, too, great crimes, 
such as murder or arson, were allowed to be commuted for a fine 
of five pounds ; while the English courts hanged up the offender. 
Nor would it be reasonable to assume that the English authorities 
were at all times patient, and placable, and condescending. It is 
probable that some causes of complaint really existed ; indeed, 
considering the position of the two parties, this was nearly inevit- 
able. But the existence of some wrongs of this kind did not make 
Llewelyn's conduct either wise or reasonable. He had already 
experienced the King's kindness and generosity; and he had no 
right to assume that wrong-doing, clearly shown to exist, would 
have been maintained and justified. Twice he had been Edward's 
invited guest in his palace of Westminster ; and he could not doubt 
of obtaining a patient hearing whenever he chose to carry to the 



Caernarvon Castle. 



King's own ear a statement of things requiring amendment. Any 
course would have been more wise and more defensible than that 
which was actually adopted, of sudden and treacherous warfare. 
The Archbishop brought back Llewelyn's answer; but he must 
have known its insufficiency. Whenever actually engaged in war- 
fare with a subject or vassal, it was Edward's constant rule to 
listen to nothing but submission. Had Llewelyn applied to him 
before having recourse to arms, he would readily have done justice ; 
but now, a blow having been actually struck, he demanded, in the 
first place, submission. That submission he would not purchase by 
any concession. If Llewelyn would lay down his arms, he should 
have justice ; if not, it must be war, and then ' God defend the right.' 
"The summer drew on, and Edward began to move. His path 
was now quite clear. His vassal, once before rebellious, and then 
pardoned and generously treated, had now, with greater violence, 
broken out into open rebellion, and dared his lord to the field. 
With unhesitating decision, but without any precipitation, the King 
collected his forces and entered Wales. The plan of the campaign 
differed in nothing from that of 1277. A naval force was 
despatched for the reduction of Anglesea. So soon as that island 
was in the possession of the English, the King's operations were 
chiefly carried on on the western side of Snowdon. A bridge of 
boats was constructed for the passage of the Menai Strait; and 
while this work was in progress, the Welsh, by one of those sudden 
attacks of which they were always fond, surprised a detachment, 
commanded by Lucas de Thony, a Gascon knight, and drove it 
into the Menai, killing and drowning a considerable number of 
men. Encouraged by this success, and probably dreading to be 



Caernarvon Castle. 83 

shut up in Snowdon, as in 1277, Llewelyn left his mountain 
fastnesses, and passed into Radnor, where he expected to meet a 
party of friends. He there came into contact with an English force, 
under the command of Edward Mortimer and John Giffard ; and in 
an irregular skirmish he was killed by one Adam Frankton, an 
English soldier, who knew not his person, and was quite unconscious 
of his rank. But his body was soon recognised by some of the 
leaders of the party, and the head was cut off and sent to the King. 
According to the custom of the times, Edward desired it to be 
forwarded to London, and set up over the gate of the Tower. 

"The 'death of Llewelyn so entirely discouraged the Welsh, 
that no further opposition was offered ; but the whole principality 
at once submitted, and became from that day forward an integral 
part of England. Its annexation was as natural and just a thing 
as many other annexations which have occurred in our own time. 
We may go further, and say it was more natural and more just. 
We have annexed India, under the mild government of Queen 
Victoria, province after province, of far greater size and population 
than the principality of Wales, merely because their rulers would 
not conduct themselves with justice and propriety as friendly and 
independent states. But Wales had been for centuries feudally 
subject to England. Edward asked nothing of Llewelyn but that 
homage and loyalty to which he had an unquestionable right. On 
Llewelyn's first contumacy, Edward showed the greatest forbear- 
ance ; and received his submission, and restored him to his seat, the 
first moment his submission was tendered. The actual rebellion 
and open warfare of the Welsh prince against his feudal lord could 
be visited with nothing less than forfeiture. The chance-medley 



84 Caernarvon Castle. 



death of Llewelyn ended the question in the shortest way ; but 
had he met with no such death, the termination of the contest must 
have been the same. The principality of Wales was forfeited to the 
superior lord ; and Edward could feel no more doubt than we do 
now, that in uniting the two countries he was consulting the best 

interests of both 

" The wretched beginner of this second Welsh controversy, David 
of Snowdon, succeeded, for several months, in hiding himself in the 
mountains, and leading the life of an outlaw. His unyielding 
contumacy completed his ruin. Had he frankly and instantly 
submitted, and thrown himself on Edward's mercy, all that we 
know of the King assures us that at least his life would have been 
saved. But he remained obdurate, until, after a concealment of 
several months, he was at length given up by some of his own 
countrymen. Then when there was no longer any merit in 
submission, and when nothing but an appeal to Edward's mercy 
could save him, he begged to be allowed to see the King. But 
Edward was justly and reasonably indignant at his ingratitude, 
and refused to grant an interview. Still he would not hastily 
decide upon his fate. No one who has any acquaintance with 
English history can doubt, that in either of the following ten or 
twelve reigns, such an offender as this David would have been 
instantly taken before any convenient tribunal, and would have 
passed to the scaffold or the gallows in less than twenty-four hours. 
He was an English subject, he had been raised by Edward to the 
position of an English earl, and he had requited the kindness by a 
treacherous rebellion, and by acts unquestionably amounting to 
hitjh treason." 



Caernarvon Castle. 85 

"He was tried," says the Chronicle of Dunstable, "by the 
whole baronage of England." It is clear that Edward sincerely 
desired that others, and not himself, should decide upon the fate of 
this unhappy man. He appears to have retired to his chancellor's 
residence at Acton Burnell, about ten miles from Shrewsbury, and 
to have taken no direct share in the proceedings. The trial took 
place, and, according to the custom of those days, the criminal was 
regarded as one who had committed sundry crimes, and who ought 
therefore to suffer sundry punishment. According to a method 
which was not uncommon at that period, these crimes and 
punishments were thus set forth : — " 1. As a traitor to the King, he 
was to be drawn to the place of execution ; 2. As the murderer of 
certain knights in the castle of Hawarden, he was to be hanged ; 
3. As sacrilegious, in having committed these crimes on Palm 
Sunday, he was to be disembowelled ; and 4. As having conspired 
the death of the King in various places, he was to be quartered." 

So perished the last sovereign prince of Wales, and such were 
the circumstances which preceded the erection of Caernarvon, 
Conway, and other Welsh castles. Fiction has been busy with the 
subject. The old legends of the massacre of the bards have assumed 
by degrees the strongest consistency, and other tales equally fanciful 
and equally near the truth have grown with them. Among these 
there is one which it is usual to speak of now as entirely exploded. 
We used always to be told that Edward the Second was born in 
Caernarvon Castle, and that his father presented him to the Welsh 
as their native prince. This pretty tale was long repeated, and, for 
aught we know to the contrary, it is still repeated by the guide to 
visitors at Caernarvon. Not only are there grounds for doubting 



86 Caernarvon Castle. 

its truth in both particulars, but it is absolutely certain that young 
Edward cannot have been born in the Eagle Tower, for a simple 
but conclusive reason. Mr. Cliffe (in his Book of North Wales) 
thus sums up the question : — 

" An entirely new light was thrown upon the history of this 
great national monument by the Rev. C. H. Hartshorne, at a 
meeting of the Cambrian Archaeological Association, held at 
Caernarvon, in 1848. The whole of the important paper then read 
is the result of very long and laborious researches among the 
records preserved in London and other places. Mr. Hartshorne 
demonstrated 'that the works were commenced at Caernarvon, 
10th November, 1284 ; at Conway, 28th October, 1283. That the 
walls round the town of Caernarvon were built in 1286, and that 
during this year some portion of the castle was covered in with 
lead, and extensive works carried on in the fosse. That the castle 
was in progress in 1291. That Edward I. entered the town for the 
first time, on the 1st of April, 1284, when little had been done at 
the castle, the expenses being chiefly confined to the town walls, 
and to the fosse round the future castle. That the Prince of 
Wales was bom on the 25th of April, 1284, at Caernarvon, but 
by no possibility in the Eagle Tower. That Madoc's insurrection 
in 1295 rendered useless all that had previously been erected, and 
the works were commenced afresh, beginning at the north-east 
angle, from whence, proceeding on the south side, the works were 
carried on without interruption. That the records and change of 
masonry showed the north side to be of two or three different ages, 
the earliest being assignable to some year between 1295 and 1301. 
That the Eagle Tower ivas the work of Edward the Second, shown 



Caernarvon Castle. 87 

by rolls expressly relating to its erection, and by form and character 
of its mouldings. That the Eagle Tower was roofed in November, 
1316; floored in February, 1317; and the great gateway was 
finished in the 13th of Edward II. (1320); and the Eoyal effigy 
over it being then placed there.' Those who are familiar with the 
previous historical accounts of Caernarvon will see that the fore- 
going completely destroys them. Among other things it was 
affirmed, on an authority quoted by Pennant, that the castle was 
built in one year; — and that Edward II. was born, according to 
received tradition, in the Eagle Tower, is familiar to every one. 
We confess we regret that the ancient belief should thus be 
dissipated. The architect of the castle was Henry de Elreton." 

Nor was Edward created Prince of Wales at his birth. The 
real date of the creation is seventeen years later, namely, in 1301. 
We may share Mr. Cliffe's regrets thus far, that it is a pity a 
falsehood should have been invented, rather than that, having 
been examined, its falsity should have been so clearly demonstrated. 

The burden cast upon Wales by the conquest may be partly 
estimated by observing the comparative number and importance of 
the castles in any district. Along the coast of North Wales, or 
near it, for example, we have Hawarden, Flint, Ehuddlaw, Dinas 
Bran, Denbigh, Dinorwig, Dolwyddelan, Criccieth, Dolbadarn, and 
several more, besides the four attributed usually to Henry de Elreton, 
Edward's military architect — namely, Caernarvon, Conway, Beau- 
maris, and Harlech, of which last our initial letter contains a view. 

In 1850, Mr. Hartshorne communicated to the Archaeological 
Journal a very complete and careful survey of Caernarvon. We 
venture to extract a few paragraphs, and must refer those of our 



Caernarvon Castle. 



readers who desire further information to the paper itself, which 
will be found in Vol. vn. 

"Immediately after the execution of Priuce David at 
Shrewsbury, in 1283, Edward I. began to take active measures for 
securing the entire possession of the kingdom of Wales; and 
amongst the different objects to which his attention was directed, 
the erection of fortresses claimed his first consideration. Without 
these, indeed, he could retain but a very slight and uncertain 
footing in his newly-acquired territory. Within six weeks, 
therefore, after the death of the last Welsh prince, he commenced 
building the castle of Caernarvon. An entry on the Liberate Eoll 
of this year authorises the allowance of fifty-four shillings and 
eightpence to Soger Sprengehuse, Sheriff of Salop, for the expenses 
of forty carpenters sent to Caernarvon ; and also of nine pounds 
five shillings for 200 footmen, sent from the County of Shropshire 
to the same place, for their protection. The Sheriff of Nottingham 
was also allowed three pounds two shillings and sixpence for an 
equal number of this class of workmen, sent for their assistance 
from Nottingham. The Sheriff of Rutland had previously received 
his expenses for twenty masons and their foreman, whom he had 
sent by the King's command to Conway whilst the monarch was 
there, in the 11th year of his reign; thus showing that Conway 
Castle preceded Caernarvon, though by but a few months, in the 
date of its commencement. 

" At the same time that Edward was carrying on these plans 
for their coercion, he was not inattentive to the civil rights of the 
inhabitants; for having, in the 11th year of his reign, granted a 
charter to the people of Caernarvon, in now confirming it, he decreed 



Caernarvon Castle. 



that the Constable of his castle, for the time being, should also be 
Mayor of the borough. 

" It is quite impossible, in the absence of any specific evidences, 
to ascertain what portion of the buildings was first erected ; if, 
indeed, any part of the existing fabric is really assignable to the 
period when Edward first began his operations. As we proceed in 
chronological order, it will be perceived that the work was in a 
state of progress for several years. The notion, therefore, that the 
castle was constructed in the short space of twelve months, which 
has hitherto been the general opinion, is too incredible to engage 
belief. The extent and magnificence of so vast an edifice could 
only be the work of a lengthened period. The grandeur of the 
general design, the stateliness of its lofty polygonal towers, 
rivalling each other in massiveness and dignity, its long vista of 
carefully finished corridors, its structures sunk and imbedded in 
rocky foundations, the ample width and strength of its curtain 
walls, perforated with every variety of loophole and oilet, and the 
deep fosse which formerly encircled the northern side, declare at 
once the utter improbability of such extraordinary works being 
executed within so limited a period ; perfected, too, at a time when 
the natives of the country were scarcely vanquished, and when the 
expenses of the Welsh and Scottish wars had impoverished the 
Exchequer 

" From the preceding accounts, it will have been observed that 
although military works were commenced at Caernarvon very shortly 
after the death of the last Welsh prince, these operations were in fact 
extended through a series of years. No particular part of the 
building is specified at this early period ; and when, therefore, the 



90 Caernarvon Castle. 

King himself visited the place in the twelfth year of his reign, and 
entered Caernarvon for the first time, on the first day of April, 
1284, the accommodation it afforded for himself and Queen Eleanor, 
then about to give birth to a future Prince of Wales, must have 
been ill-suited for the reception of royalty. The heir to the English 
throne was undoubtedly born in the town on the 25th of the same 
month — whether in the precincts of the castle, or in any particular 
part of it, it would be hazardous to determine ; but, as we shall 
shortly find sufficient reasons for stating, not in the Eagle Tower, 
where this event is, by concurrent report, asserted to have happened. 

" In the twenty-third year of Edward's reign (1295), the affairs 
of Scotland were so nearly settled, that the English monarch had 
less cause for anxiety in that quarter. He was about to embark on 
an expedition on the Continent, being involved in a dispute with 
Philip IV. of France. His English subjects had readily granted 
him a fifteenth of their movables ; and in his endeavours to enforce 
a similar tribute from the Welsh, so formidable a revolt broke out 
simultaneously in three different parts of the principality, that he 
was obliged to suspend the intended embarkation of his forces, and 
hasten to suppress the outbreak. The leaders do not seem to have 
acted together by any preconcerted plan. The rising at Caernarvon 
happened on a fair-day, when a large concourse of the people were 
assembled from the surrounding districts, and a great number of 
Englishmen were collected in the town. Under the command of 
Madoc, one of Prince David's illegitimate sons, the natives slew all 
the foreigners ; hanging Roger de Pulesdon, the Constable, they 
plundered and burnt the town, and took the castle. The fastnesses 



Caernarvon Castle. 



of Snowdon were speedily recaptured, and the unprotected plains 
of Anglesea fell an easy prey before the arms of the insurgents. 
The King had now been absent from Wales for eleven years, and 
during the interval large sums had been expended on the castle ; 
but the temporary success of the native chieftains placed the 
monarch in unforeseen difficulties, and compelled him to visit the 
country immediately. He had first to regain the power that had so 
suddenly been wrested from his grasp, and to recommence building 
the great fortress at Caernarvon, which, if not razed entirely to the 
ground, must have been rendered useless as a garrison. His tenure 
of Anglesea, too, would require some protection for the future. These 
transactions will immediately explain the cause of the royal writ on 
the Clause Rolls of this year, addressed to the Justice of Chester, order- 
ing him to select a hundred masons, and send them immediately to 
the King's works at Caernarvon, evidently to repair the injuries they 
had recently sustained ; there to do what Edmund, the King's brother, 
shall direct ; whilst undoubtedly the castle of Beaumaris owes its origin 

to the same temporary overthrow of the English power 

"The tradition of Edward II. having been born in the Eagle 
Tower has obtained such universal credit, that the assertion has 
usurped the value of- historical truth ; though when we examine the 
small and highly-inconvenient chamber where this event is said to 
have happened, it will appear perplexing why so incommodious a 
room should have been selected, when there were others also in the 
same tower, and on the same level, more suitable for the Queen's 
reception. This chamber, both shapeless and low, is a passage to 
the Vawmer, and is also a thoroughfare to two others of a better 
kind, as well as contiguous to one of the grand central rooms of the 



92 Caernarvon Castle. 

tower. These circumstances certainly bespeak improbability of 
themselves ; but the matter is placed out of controversy by the 
entries on the present account, strengthened too, as they are, by 
some upon a later document, which are preserved in a different 
depository of the National Archives. These indisputably prove 
that though the Eagle Tower might have been commenced by 
Edward I., it was far from being completed when he died; and 
there is evidence to show that that portion of the building where 
his son is reputed to have been born was actually not built until 
the present of the following year, when he was thirty-three years 
of age, and had sat ten upon the throne 

"The castle was commenced at the north-east corner, and 
gradually went on to the south-west, the masonry between these 
points being apparently the same. Edward I. proceeded with the 
works till we reach the lofty curtain-wall to the south-east of the 
Eagle Tower, where a string-course indicates the beginning of fresh 
operations, whilst the mouldings and masonry henceforward show a 
different style. So that the erection of this grand fabric was com- 
menced in the eleventh year of Edward I. (1283), and carried on at 
different intervals, till it was advanced to probably its greatest 
height of perfection in the fifteenth of Edward II. (1322), thus 
extending over a term of thirty-eight years." 

The present state of the buildings is better than in most of the 
other castles which remain. Caernarvon being Crown property, 
has been cared for by the Office of Works, and it has been constantly 
kept in a fair state of repair. The castle is only a part of the 
general plan of fortification of the whole town, as it occupies the north- 
western corner of the walls. There are two quadrangles, marked 



Caernarvon Castle. 93 

only by the different levels, as the dividing wall has disappeared. 
No fewer than thirteen polygonal towers break the lines of the walls, 
several of them rising to a considerable altitude above the waters of 
the Menai and the Seiont. The finest is the Eagle Tower, so called 
from the decorations of the battlements being, carved with heraldic- 
looking figures of spread eagles. It used to be said that these 
carvings came from the ruins of the Roman town of Segontium ; 
but here again the ruthless antiquarian steps in with the carver's 
bills, which were paid by Edward II., for the work. It was also 
said that much of the material for the whole building came from 
the same ruins ; but here again we have evidence that four hundred 
great stones were contracted for in Anglesea, and that a large 
number besides were brought over the straits in small vessels. 
" The principal entrance into the castle," says Mr. Evans, in the 
Beauties of England and Wales, "is peculiarly grand, beneath a 
massy tower, on the front of which is a statue of Edward, in a 
menacing posture, with a sword half drawn in his hand, apparently 
threatening death and destruction to his newly-acquired, yet restive 
and reluctant subjects." Another writer says of it, that it "gave 
great umbrage to the still smouldering independence of the nation. 

' Are ye lead — see ye not where Edward sits V 
exclaimed a bard in one of his strains, and a thousand hands 
quivered on the blades." 

Mr. Evans describes the buildings as they appeared fifty years 
ago ; and as a good account of what they are now may be found 
in the Guide Book, we venture to extract the older description, as 
now possessing a double interest. It will be observed that Evans 
makes all the usual errors in the historical portion of his work : — ■ 



94 Caernarvon Castle. 



" This gate, by the remaining grooves, evidently was defended 
by four portcullises. The area within is oblong, but of an irregular 
shape ; and was formerly divided into two parts, forming an outer 
and inner court. The internal part of this stupendous monument 
of ancient grandeur is much more dilapidated than would be 
expected from viewing the outside ; many of the buildings lie in 
ruinous heaps, and the rooms contained within the towers are mere 
skeletons. What are called the state apartments appear to have 
been extremely commodious, lighted by spacious windows, with 
elegant tracery. These externally exhibit a square front, but inter- 
nally are all polygonal, some of the sides having been formed out of 
the thickness of the walls. A gallery, or covered way, appears to 
have extended completely round the interior of the castle, forming 
a general communication with the whole of the building : of this 
about seventy yards are nearly entire. The gate through which 
the truly duteous and affectionate Eleanor, wife of the conqueror, 
made her political entry into this proud pile, destined to convert 
independence into submission — called the Queen's Gate — is 
considerably above the level of the present ground, and probably 
was passable only by means of a drawbridge over the moat or fosse. 
It was defended by two portcullises. The staircase to the Eagle 
Tower is the only one remaining complete, and from the summit is 
an extensive view of the surrounding country and the isle of 
Anglesea. ' Edward the Second,' says Mr. Pennant, ' was born in 
a little dark room in this tower, not twelve feet long, nor eight in 
breadth : so little did, on those days, a royal consort consult either 
pomp or conveniency.' On a view of this little dark room — which, 
from its having the accommodation of a fireplace, appears to have 



Caernarvon Castle. 95 

been a dressing-closet — the smallness will strike the beholder at once 
with the improbability of its having been prepared for the royal 
accouchment. The adjoining central spacious chamber on the same 
floor was most probably the one destined by the haughty monarch 
for the momentous occasion ; an apartment suitable to the state of 
an English queen, and the heir-apparent of a new principality. It 
is, however, matter of conjecture, and not worthy of discussion ; for 
as Mr. Wyndham justly remarks, 'Surely the birth of such a 
degenerate and dastardly tyrant reflects little honour on the castle 
of Caernarvon.' " 

He makes the following remarks on the dignity of the Prince of 
Wales: — "Though Prince Edward was born in 1284, it was not 
till he had arrived to his sixteenth year that he received the 
reluctant fealty of his deluded subjects. ' In the twenty-ninth year 
of that monarch's reign, the Prince of Wales came down to Chester, 
and received homage of all the freeholders in Wales. On this 
occasion he was invested, as a mark of imperial dignity, with a 
chaplet of gold round his head, a golden ring on his finger, and a 
silver sceptre in his hand. It is a curious circumstance, that 
though the country was transferred by the Welsh, in consequence 
of birth, that neither the title nor estate is descendible by birth- 
right to the heir-apparent of the British throne. Edward the First 
summoned his son to Parliament by the style and title of Prince of 
Wales and Earl of Chester ; yet it docs not appear that either of 
these honours is absolutely hereditary. Edward, subsequent to 
that investiture, summoned the same son by the honourable 
designation of Earl of Chester and Flint. And when Edward the 
Third conferred the principality upon his son, the Black Prince, he 



96 Caernarvon Castle. 

decreed, that in future the eldest son of the kings of England 
should succeed to the dignity of Duke of Cornwall ; and, at the 
same time, several possessions were annexed to the duchy. Since 
which time the title of Dux Cornubise is legally attached to 
primogeniture. But long subsequent to that period, the honour of 
Wales does not appear to have been necessarily connected with 
birth, for the eldest sons of the English monarch were created by 
letters patent ; and though by courtesy the first-born of the royal 
family is styled Prince or Princess of "Wales, yet it does not seem 
this title is dependent on nativity. However, it is not legally clear, 
since the time of Henry the Seventh, that any public investiture, 
by patent or otherwise, has taken place, respecting the honorial 
distinction ; but the eldest son seems to have succeeded, both to 
the dignity and concomitant property, as a matter of course." 

The upper quadrangle contains the Dungeon Tower, in which 
probably William Prynne was imprisoned, until the number of his 
sympathisers who visited Caernarvon became so great that he was 
removed to a more retired place. The town walls were about half- 
a-mile round, and were formerly defended by twelve turrets and a 
moat. Evans writes : — 

" A walk ranged entirely round the inside of the embattled 
parapet, and two gates formed the entrance into the town, the east 
facing the mountains, and the west opening to Menai. A wide and 
most accommodating terrace, extending from the quay to the north 
end of the town walls, forms a most charming walk, the fashionable 
promenade, in fine weather, for all descriptions of people ; who, 
while they inhale the salutiferous breeze, may be pleasingly 
amused by the moving varieties of the port." 



Caernarvon Castle. 97 

For the most part, however, the walls have been destroyed or 
obliterated by private buildings, and can hardly be traced by the 
visitor. The port, which in Evans's time was of little importance, 
is now one of the head-quarters of the slate trade, and there is a 
long pier by the river bank. As many as a hundred thousand tons 
of slates are brought through Caernarvon in a year. 

The remains of Segontium, the Roman station, are "at 
Llanbelig, within half-a-mile of Caernarvon ; the road from 
Beddgelert piercing the middle. It occupied ' a quadrangular area 
of about seven acres, on the summit of an eminence gradually 
sloping on every side, and was defended with strong walls of 
masonry, of which, on the south side, are extensive portions in a 
tolerably perfect state.' Several interesting discoveries were made 
in 1845, in excavating the foundations of a new vicarage house; 
and others subsequently. A Roman villa and baths have been 
traced ; and a list of coins found includes that most interesting one 
struck when Judea was subdued, bearing this inscription : — imp. 
caes. vespasian. avg. p. m. TPvPPPCOS. The reverse is not so well 
preserved, but its legend may be easily traced ; the word capta is 
very legible : Judea is represented sitting under a palm tree, 
weeping, verifying the prophecy of Isaiah, ' And she, being desolate, 
shall sit upon the ground.' Near the Seiont was a strong fort, 
intended to secure a landing-place at high water, two sides of the 
walls of which are nearly entire. There are traces of other outposts 
on the opposite side of the Seiont. Ddinas Dinlle, a conspicuous 
circular artificial mount, of great strength, on the sea-shore, was 
the chief outpost of Segontium. Coins have been found there." 

The compiler of Murray's Guide adds : — " The excavations at 



98 Caernarvon Castle. 

this spot brought to light a Roman well or cloaca, where the 
vicarage now stands ; also portions of a street and hypocaust, 
together with numerous coins of the reigns of Domitian, Maximus, 
Aureliau, Constantine, and Tetricus. The walls are in tolerable 
preservation on two sides, about ten feet in height and six in 
thickness. Several outworks kept up the communication, 
particularly towards the Seiont, where, ' on the opposite bank, 
under Bryn Helen, remains existed to the close of the last century.' 
Between them ran the causeway of Helen, or ' Sam Helen.' . . . 
The excavations are now filled up, and the visitors have some 
difficulty in tracing the external features of the defences. The 
total area of the station was about seven acres. Many of the places 
in the vicinity bear the name of Helen, such as Bryn Helen, Sarn 
Helen, Ffynnon Helen, Coed Helen, &c. They were so called in 
honour of the Princess Helena, daughter of Octavius, the Duke of 
Cornwall, and wife of Maximus, first cousin of Constantine, who 
was born at Segontium." 

The artificial mound mentioned above is evidently a British 
work, but it may have been appropriated by the Romans, and 
connected with their station at Segontium. It overlooks the sea, 
and was strongly fortified with a double line of escarpments. The 
sea-line has been considerably injured by the waves, but traces of 
watch-towers may be found. The mound was circular, and not less 
than four hundred feet in diameter at the base. On the summit is 
a large area, surrounded by a vast rampart of earth : within this 
space, the remains of buildings, of an oblong form, are discoverable, 
constructed with loose stones, and a tumulus composed of the same 
materials. 



Caernarvon Castle. 99 



Caernarvon is the county town and a borough, returning one 
member to Parliament. The population is under 10,000. Its 
history is closely connected with that of the castle, but presents a 
few separate features. " In the year 1402, the town was blockaded 
by a party of insurgents, under the direction of Owen Glyndwr ; 
which was bravely defended for King Henry by Jevan ap Mere- 
dydd, to whom, with Meredydd ap Hwlkin Llwyd of Glynllifon, 
under the command of an English captain, had been committed the 
custody of the castle. On this occasion so closely was the place 
invested, that it was found expedient to carry the corpse of Jevan, 
who died during the siege, by sea, round the peninsular part of the 
country, for interment at Penmorfa. On the breaking out of the 
civil wars Caernarvon was seized, in behalf of the Parliament, by 
Captain Swanley, who, in 1644, took, on the surrender of the town, 
four hundred prisoners, and a very considerable quantity of arms 
and ammunition. The royalists, however, appear to have been 
soon in repossession, for in 1646 it was besieged by the troops 
under Generals Mytton and Langhorn, to whom it was surrendered 
upon honourable conditions by the governor, Lord Byron. In 
1648, General Mytton was in turn besieged in the town, by a small 
force under that eminent loyalist, Sir John Owen ; but having 
received intelligence that Colonels Carter and Twisselton were 
marching with a superior army to relieve the place, he raised the 
siege, and marched to meet the rebels. Near Llandegai a furious 
rencontre ensued, in which Sir John was defeated and made 
prisoner ; after which disastrous event, the whole of North Wales 
submitted to the Parliamentarian authority." 

It is highly probable that there was a town of some importance 



100 Caernarvon Castle. 

either here or close by from the time of the Romans. Evans, whom 
we heave quoted above, observes on this point: — "But it was in 
being long previous to that period, and was probably the British 
town that subsisted under the protection of the Romans, what is 
now considered the ancient Segontium having been exclusively 
confined to the use of the Roman military. Giraldus Cambrensis 
mentions passing through it in the year 1188 ; the author of the- 
life of Gryffydd, the son of Cynan, observes that Hugh, Earl of 
Chester, who had dethroned the Welsh monarch, and overran nearly 
the whole of North Wales, to secure his conquests and facilitate 
future inroads, erected four fortresses — one at Aberllienawg in 
Anglesea, another in Meirion, a third at Bangor, and a fourth at 
this place, then denominated Hen Caer Custenni. Llewelin the 
Great also dates a charter, granted to the priory of Penmon, from 
it in the year 1221. The probability, therefore, is against the idea 
of the present town having been a creation of the conqueror. To a 
judicious and able warrior Hke Edward, however, the place presented 
a situation admirably adapted for constituting a fortified post, for 
the purpose of curbing his newly-acquired country. The position 
was naturally strong, bounded on one side by the Menai Straits, 
on another by the estuary of the Seiont, on a third by a creek of 
the Menai, and the remainder has been apparently isolated by art. 
This fortress, it has been justly observed, from whatever point or 
from whatever distance it is viewed, assumes a romantic singularity 
of appearance and an air of grandeur, that, while it excites awe, 
affords pleasure to the beholder ; and some of its noble walls, going 
fast to decay, excite a melancholy sigh at the dilapidating powers 
of hoary-headed time." 



BEDDGELERT. 




F ever a tradition deserved to be treated 
as a well-proved historical fact, it is 
the tradition which relates to this 
beautiful spot. The " grave of Gelert " 
can hardly have obtained its name from 
any other source. The tale, as we have 
it now, may or may not be true ; it may 
have happened a thousand years earlier, 
or a hundred years later. The tragedy 
of which it tells is at least so far true, 
that it unfailingly strikes a tender chord in our hearts ; and though 
the curious in such matters say a similar story is told amongst 
almost all nations which have any legendary lore, and that various 
other meanings may be given to the name, we are inclined to agree 
with the recent writer who says that no one " of the least taste 
would disturb by doubts so affecting a legend." 

We may first give the story in its usual and best form, and 
next speak of the antiquities and beauties of the place. An 
accomplished, if not very brilliant poet, the Hon. William Spencer — 
who, if we mistake not, was one of the bards celebrated in the 



Beddgelert. 



famous Rejected Addresses — put the fate of Gelert into simple 
verses, and we must quote them whole : — 

'• The spearmen heard the bugle sound, 
And cheerly smiled the morn ; 
And many a brach, and many a hound, 
Attend Llewelyn's horn. 

" And still he blew a louder blast, 
And gave a louder cheer ; 
' Come, Gelert, why art thou the last 
Llewelyn's horn to hear] 

" ' Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam 1 
The flower of all his race ; 
So true, so brave : a lamb at honic ; 
A lion in the chase.' 

" 'Twas only at Llewelyn's board 
The faithful Gelert fed ; 
He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, 
And centinel'd his bed. 

"In sooth, he was a peerless hound, 
The gift of royal John ; 
But now no Gelert could be found, 
And all the chase rode on. 

" And, now, as over rocks and dells 
The gallant chidings rise, 
All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells 
With many mingled cries. 

" That day Llewelyn little loved 
The chase of hart or hare, 
And scant and small the booty proved, 
For Gelert was not there. 



Beddgelert. 



■ Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied ; 

When, near the royal seat, 
His truant Gelert he espied, 
Bounding his lord to greet. 

• But when he gained his castle dcmr. 

Aghast the chieftain stood : 
The hound was smear'd with gouts of gore, 
His lips and fangs ran Hood ! 

: Llewelyn gazed with wild surprise, 
Unused sueh looks to meet ; 
His favourite checked his joyful guise, 
And crouched, and licked liis feet. 

'Onward in haste Llewelyn past. 

And on went Gelert too : 
And still, where'er his eyes he cast, 
Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view ! 

: Overturned his infant's bed he found, 

The blood-stained covert rent : 
And all around the walls and ground, 
"With recent blood besprent. 

' He called his child ; no voice replied ; 

He search'd with terror wild ; 

Blood, blood he found on every side, 

But nowhere found the child ! 

' ' Hell-hound, by thee my child's devoured ! 
The frantic father cried : 
And to the hilt the vengeful sword, 
He plunged in Gelert's side. 

' His suppliant, as to earth he fell, 
No pity could impart ; 
But still his Gelert's dying yell 
Past heavy o'er his heart. 



106 Beddsrelert. 



' Aroused by Gelert's dying yell, 

Some slumberer wakened nigh : 
What words the parent's joy can tell, 
To hear his infant cry ! 

• Concealed between a mingled heap, 

His hurried search had missed ; 
All glowing from his rosy sleep, 
His cherub boy he kissed. 

• Xor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread, 

But the same couch beneath 
Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead, 
Tremendous still in death ! 

1 All ! what was then Llewelyn's pain ! 
For now the truth was clear ; 
The gallant hound the wolf had slain, 
To save Llewelyn's heir. 

' Vain, vain was all Llewelyn's woe ; 

' Best of thy kind, adieu ! 
The frantic deed which laid thee low, 
This heart shall ever rue ! ' 

' And now a gallant tomb they raise, 

With costly sculpture deckt ; 
And marbles storied with his praise 
Poor Gelert's bones protect. 

■ Here never could the spearman pass, 

Or forester unmoved ; 
Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass 
Llewelyn's sorrow proved. 

And here he hung his horn and spear, 

And oft, as evening fell, 
In fancy's piercing sounds would hear 

Poor Gelert's dying yell ! 



Beddgelert. 107 



" And till groat Snowdon's rooks grow old, 
And cease the storm to brave, 
The consecrated spot shall hold 
The name of Gelert's grave." 

Such is the story of Gelert as told by Mr. Spencer, and 
assuredly it is worthy of a poet's best verse. The tomb is still 
pointed out in a field near the church ; but none of the sculpture 
mentioned in the ballad remains, if indeed any ever existed uj>on 
it. Llewelyn had several children, having been twice married ; and 
it is not possible now to say which of them was the subject of 
Gelert's care. 

This Llewelyn ap Jorwerth was Prince of Wales, it is said, from 
1194 to 1240. The chroniclers detail his deeds at great length; 
and we read that in the latter year "the most valiant and noble 
prince, which brought all Wales to his subjection, and had so often 
put his enemies to flight and defended his country, enlarging the 
mears thereof further than they had been many years before, passed 
out of this transitory life, and was honourably buried at the Abbey 
of Conway, after he had governed Wales well and worthily fifty 
and six years." His second wife was Joan, a daughter of King 
John of England, by whom he was father of David, who succeeded 
him. This prince died childless, and the descendants of his father's 
elder son, Griffith, were the princes whose sad end, under Edward 
the First, is detailed in our account of Caernarvon. 

Some authorities say that Llewelyn founded the church at 
Beddgelert in memory of the rash deed narrated in Mr. Spencer's 
poem ; but it is certainly older than his time, though he probably 
was a great benefactor to the monastery of the "Blessed Mary 



108 Beddgelert. 



of Snowdon" at this place, which was a place of resort for pil- 
grims, especially those passing and repassing to and from Ireland. 
The church is very curious, being of the age of Edward the First ; 
and though small, possesses some points of interest, the chancel 
being lighted with three tall lancet windows, and the arches, which 
formerly communicated with a north aisle, remaining built up into 
the wall. Portions of the cloisters may also be seen ; but the 
monastery was destroyed, or at least severely injured, by fire in 
1289. According to Mr. Evans, "Edward the First, by his sole 
munificence, repaired the damages ; and Bishop Anian, as an 
inducement for benefactors to come forward and enable the prior 
to use his accustomed hospitality, remitted by an indulgence forty 
days of any penance they might previously have been enjoined for 
past transgressions. It was given by Henry the Eighth, in 1535, 
to the Abbey of Chertsey, in Surrey ; and the annual revenues at 
the Dissolution amounted, by Dugdale's valuation, to £72 8s. 8d. ; 
by Speed's, to £69 3s. 8d. No part of the building now remains, 
but it is probable the present church has at times been repaired out 
of the ruins. 

" The village consists of a few straggling cottages ; and one, little 
distinguished from the rest, was, a few years past, the only place 
where the traveller could obtain refreshment. He will now find 
a comfortable inn, with excellent accommodation, whether he 
proceeds on horseback or in a carriage ; and a more pleasing or 
convenient station he cannot take for making excursions to some of 
the most interesting scenes in this and the adjacent county." 

Mr. Cliffe gives the following description of the scenery in the 
neighbourhood of Beddgelert : — " We know not how to account for 



Beddgelert. 109 



it, but Beddgelert never, to us, fully realised its early promise, 
although it has always been one of the favourite resorts of tourists ; 
perhaps it is too much enclosed. In colour it has few ecpials. The 
road below the Goat Hotel leads along the vale through which the 
united rivers flow into the ravine called Pont Aberglaslyn — the 
gate into Merionethshire. Here a vast rent has been made in the 
body of the mountain ; the precipitous sides of the chasm rise in 
sombre majesty to the height of 700 feet, and at the bottom the 
river works for itself a narrow channel among innumerable masses 
of rock, torn by the convulsions of nature or the force of the 
elements from the crags above. The schistose rocks of which the 
mountain is composed are in some places perfectly black ; in others 
grey ; in others of an ochry tint, betraying the richness of their 
internal veins ; in some of them grassy mosses and lichens nourish ; 
there is much heath ; and frequent tracks of torrents, with continual 
heaps of debris, intersect the sides, or project into the stream. The 
east side, on which the traveller's eye necessarily dwells, is the most 
abrupt and tremendous of the two ; the other, more prolific in its 
mineral contents, has a vein of copper which has been successfully 
worked, and bears several plantations on its more gentle declivities ; 
the road, too, has been constructed along it, and winds through the 
pass for about half-a-mile. In so short a space the river experiences 
a considerable descent, rushing along with vast rapidity and noise ; 
and where the surface of the water is not broken into waves or 
covered with foam, a great variety of tints, green and brown of 
every shade, are reflected back by the rocks through the transparent 
fluid. Whether visited in the sunshine of the morning, or by the 
pale rays of the moon ; in the heat and dryness of summer, when 



110 Beddgelert. 



the river is diminished in strength ; or amidst the snows and rains 
of winter, at which season it becomes a furious torrent, disdaining 
its former bounds, and filling to a great depth the bottom of the 
chasm, the Pass of Pont Aberglaslyn will always present a picture 
of the highest sublimity. The lofty steepness of the rocks on either 
side, their sterility and dark, damp colour, the narrowness of the 
chasm, and the roaring fury of the river, cannot fail at all times 
powerfully to impress the mind. The traveller will never hurry 
through this wonderful spot ; he will always pause at that point 
where the vales at both ends of the pass are shut out from his 
view ; and if the moon be shining over the mountain, lighting up 
the recesses of the rocks, and twinkling in the stream below, his 
lingering steps will scarcely lead him from so fine a scene. 

"The Glaslyn emerges from the ravine beneath a bridge, pours 
its waters between rocky walls and wooded banks for a short 
distance, and at length flows in a silent expanded stream, through 
the Vale of Tremadoc, to the sea." 

Mr. Evans has also given some charming descriptions, one of 
which relates to the country to the north-east of Beddgelert, and 
the Pass of Nant Gwynant in particular. " It affords," he says, 
"such multifarious scenery, composed of luxuriant meads, watered 
by expansive lakes, whence issue numerous streams, that meander 
towards the sea ; and circumvented by august boundaries, finely 
clothed with wood far up their sides, above which they lift their 
bare and rugged summits to the skies in all the diversity of 
colouring; so that the beauty and order, so admirably described by 
the elegant Mason, are here actually exhibited to the enraptured 



Beddgelert. 



" ' Vivid green. 
Warm brown, and black opake, the foreground bears 
Conspicuous. Sober olive coldly marks 
The second distance. Thence the third declines 
In softer blue, or lessening still, is lost in 
Faintest purple.' 

" About a short mile up this valley, on the left, rises a lofty 
rock, forming part of the mountain barrier, on which it is said 
V.ortigern had his residence previous to his final retreat from the 
persecutions of his subjects to Nant Gwrtheyrn, in the vicinity of 
Nefyn. This he bestowed upon his favourite soothsayer, 
Ambrosius; and the spot still retains the appellation of Dinas 
Emrys, or the Fort of Ambrosius, called in Welsh Merddin Emrys. 
On the top of this precipitous rock is a considerable area, the 
accessible part of which . is defended by two large ramparts : 
within this are the remains of a stone-building, about ten yards in 
length ; and the walls, though built without mortar, appear very 
thick and strong. Near this, a place, allusive to the magical story 
of Vortigern and his court, is called Cell-y-dewinicud, or the cell of 
the Diviners. 

" Here, ' Prophetic Merlin sate, when to the British king 
The changes long to come, auspiciously, he told. 
And from the top of Brith, so high and wondrous steep 
Where Dinas Emris stood, showed where the serpent fought, 
The white that tore the red, from whence the prophet wrought 
The Briton's sad decay, then shortly to ensure.' * 

" This Merddin is represented in legendary story as the son of 
virgin, begotten by an incubus ; consequently endued with 

* Drayton's Polyolbion. 



112 Beddgelert. 



miraculous and predictive powers ; and numerous prophecies are 
attributed to him, the copying or recital of which was prohibited 
by the Council of Trent. But the traveller will pleasurably turn 
away from the recollection of such absurdities, to view the beautiful 
Llyn-y-Dinas, filling the vale with its expansive waters ; favoured 
for a large and well -flavoured trout; and affording the effects of 
contrast and vividity to the surrounding scenery. Two miles 
beyond this rise, with unwieldy bulk, Y Aran, under which is a 
romantic hollow, denominated Cwm Llan, extending on the left 
towards Snowdon, whose summit is here finely visible between the 
intervening mountains. Numerous trees, issuing out of the rocky 
clefts at the feet and sides, tend greatly to relieve the eye from the 
fatiguing, dull uniformity of the mountain. At the same time a 
neat modern mansion, embosomed in woods, with a small lawn in 
front, forms a fine close to the upper end of the lake. The 
mountains here converge, but soon recede ; and another lake, Llyn 
Gwynant, presents itself to view. This is about three-quarters of a 
mile in length, and nearly fills the valley, leaving little more than 
space for the continuation of the road." 

A writer in the Guardian newspaper, of September 9, 1874, 
considers Beddgelert one of the best places from which to ascend 
Snowdon. He says : — -" Snowdon was, of course, in our 
programme. In shape, as well as in height, Snowdon is fairly 
monarch of the Welsh mountains : there are no finer hollows than 
those which his six arms embrace ; no uglier or more saw-like ridges 
than those which enclose his hollows ; no more charming little lakes 
than those basined at different heights in his sides. Of all the 
several ways up Snowdon, that from Llanberis is the tamest. By 



113 



far the most imposing approach is that from Capel Curig, by way 
of Gorphwysfa ; hut that from Beddgelert is also fine ; and, after 
seeing the mountains thoroughly, I should say that an ascent from 
Beddgelert, and a descent to Gorphwysfa, will show its features 
best. Ascent or descent by the Crib Goch ridge, or by Bwlch-y- 
Saethan, is dangerous : on the former route, in particular, a man's 
life depends upon his not slipping or stumbling. 

" Ascending Snowdon from Beddgelert, the first aim is to get 
fairly upon the mass of the mountain at Llechog, a recurved ridge, 
which, like all the six arms (some places excepted), has one 
precipitous and one rounded side. Llechog is precipitous towards 
the north, but easily accessible on the other side. Arriving upon 
Llechog, you look down into one of Snowdon's hollows, Cwm-y- 
Clogwyn, another of the characteristic spoon-shaped valleys, though 
not the finest in Wales. You hem the precipitous edge of Llechog 
for awhile, looking over into impossible precipices, or down at 
barely traversable loose slopes ; you serpentine the more solid piece 
of the slope ; presently you come up upon the narrow bridge which 
leads from Llechog to the summit, called Bwlch-y-Main. This is 
another situation of grandeur beyond imagination without seeing. 
Here are deep spoon hollows on both sides ; on one hand Cwm-y- 
Clogvvyn, on the other the longer and broader deep of Cvvm-y-Llan. 
Sometimes the path, which winds about among sharp, jagged rocks 
set upright, and forming an edge not many feet wide, passes the 
brink of Cwm-y-Clogwyn ; then you go through a notch in the 
jagged edge, and see down into Cwm-y-Llan. As you clamber 
along this ridge (which looks a most frightful place, but is really 
perfectly safe, and is sometimes done with ponies), you see the top 



Beddgelert. 



of Snowdon, with the hut, rising among the jags above you ; the 
last part of the climb is truly magnificent. 

" But the full grandeur of Snowdon cannot be better seen than 
from the steep and difficult (but not in the least dangerous) path to 
Gorphwysfa. The sun was out as we descended ; but frequent 
clouds came to shade the path, and we went merrily down towards 
Capel Curig, with a midland woolspinner, who thought he had done 
great things in mountaineering to walk up the easy ride from 
Llanberis, but was quite willing to learn better, and seemed fairly 
awe-struck at the majesty of Snowdon on the way down to 
Gorphwysfa, sharing also our delight with that pretty green lake 
which lies highest and closest to the mountain's side." 

Mr. Cliffe (Book of North Wales, p. 179) thus describes the 
same ascent : — " One evening in June we reached Beddgelert with 
two friends. . . . The next morning . . the clouds were 
down on Snowdon ; but Moel Hebog, which is a sort of barometer 
for its huge neighbour, gave promising signs. ' It may clear off, 
sir, indeed, when we get up.' Thus cheered, we started, walking 
for about two and a-half miles on the Caernarvon road before we 
turned off, not far from ' Pitt's Head,' a rock on the roadside, with 
a profile resembling that immortal statesman. Leaving a farm- 
house, Fridd-Uchaf, we kept near a torrent on our right, the 
summit of Snowdon bearing, we were told, north-east. The peak 
of Aran, with its long serrated curtain, rose on the east. After 
steady collar-work for about two miles, we began to shake off Cwm 
Craigog, and halted at a delicious spring, where our guide's canteen 
and our flasks of brandy were serviceable, the old guide beguiling 
the time with a store of anecdotes — one of which, of a wild Irishman 



Beddgelert. 115 



who insisted on ascending in winter, and did ascend, when Snowdon 
was rather thickly covered with snow, struck our fancy much. 
Soon after we came in sight of a profound hollow, penetrating the 
very heart of the mountain, Cwm-y-Clogwyn, or " The Precipice," 
in which four small pools, called Ffynnon Lds, Llyn Goch, Llyn 
Ffynnongwas, and Llyn-y-Nadroedd (signifying severally the Blue, 
the Red, the Servants', and the Adders' Pools), sullenly repose. The 
depth, the gloom, the severity of this great hill solitude impressed 
us powerfully. The clouds continued most tantalising. Now there 
was a sudden lift, then vast masses of vapour swooped down uj)on 
us, filling Cwm-y-Clogwyn in an instant ; again the grey mass rose, 
gracefully playing with the rocky outworks of the dread hidden 
mountain citadel. Ponies are left near the spot on which we stood. 
We had Warner's description of the terrors of the Clawdd Gdch 
fresh in our mind as we entered on the passage of that red ridge. 
The scene was indeed awe-inspiring. The clouds came down again ; 
the soughing of the wind was full of inexpressible melancholy ; the 
dim light exaggerated the fearfulness of the depth — yon felt that a 
false step would be fatal. Yet in broad sunlight the prospect is 
sublime. Bingley thought that in some parts of this narrow stony 
bivlch, if a person held a large stone in each hand, and let them 
both fall at once, each would roll above a quarter of a mile, and 
thus when they stopped be more than half-a-mile asunder ; and he 
does not exaggerate. Below us, on the east and north-east, but 
hidden by the mist, were Llyn Llydaw and Glaslyn — the former 
filling the bottom of a dark ' cwm' one and a-half miles long. 
After treading carefully over the slippery rocks for several hundred 
yards, at last we made out the Ordnance mark through the gloom, 



116 Beddgelert. 



and approached the Wyddfa. Not a soul was there. We stood 
alone on the highest spot in the British isles south of the Forth. 
The damp of the clouds, the chilly mysterious wind, the darkness 
ceased not. We could only see a few yards on either side ; and 
even the faith of our old guide in the day was sometimes much 
shaken. Presently we heard him shouting in Welsh to some one, 
and found that one of the Llanberis guides was in advance of a 
party. Suddenly the dull vapours began to break at several points, 
and we obtained magical ghmpses of distant scenes, which had a 
dream-like effect. Sunny mountain lakes flitted like diamonds 
across our vision, in the swift wavy line of clouds ; then a 
wandering glory lit up a grand peak, or disclosed a gentle hill 
solitude ; now all Anglesea, like a variegated carpet, was visible ; 
the proud towers of Caernarvon, the green ocean, swelling hills, 
silver mountain threads, were illuminated or hidden by turns ; 
darkness followed. About half-an-hour was thus spent in a state 
of excitement ; and in the meanwhile other parties had arrived, and 
more than a dozen shivering mortals clustered round the narrow 
top. There were no huts — which have spoiled the romance of this 
height — then ; no shelter but the modern cairn. Suddenly, swift 
as thought, the whole mass of cloud sailed oft" Snowdon ! and before 
us and around us, bathed in sunshine, were landscapes which, once 
seen, can never be quite blotted out — 

"'Meditation here may think down hours to moments.'" 



Marcus Ward & Co., Printers, U..vnl Ulster Works, Belfast. 



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